


Bartimaeus and the Something of Something

by thefairyprincev (QueenOfThePolarBears)



Series: Bartimaeus Hogwarts AU [3]
Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Bart doesn't know why, Hogwarts AU, Multi, Uraziel is the Headmaster and he gets all the ladies and a lot of the guys too, people need to stop trusting me with tags, the "secret" animagus club, why did you guys trust me to write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfThePolarBears/pseuds/thefairyprincev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The obligatory Hogwarts AU fic for the Bartimaeus fandom.<br/>When you mix four students from each of the houses, eight days of detention, and a narcissistic professor with a dark secret hidden up his sleeve what do you get? Chaos. And that's just the beginning. Follow the adventures Bartimaeus, Nathaniel, Ptolemy, and Kitty end up having through one year at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins with the train ride. Bartimaeus has low hopes for this year's DADA professor.

            It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Really, it wasn’t. To be honest with myself,[1] none of this had been supposed to happen, especially not like this.

            “That thing is uh... it’s um...” I heard Nat trail off.[2]

            “It’s really fucking big.” Ah, there was Kitty, as eloquent[3] as ever, even as we all nodded with her assessment in silence, still too stunned to do much but stare at the thing in the middle of the great hall. The other occupants of the room remained frozen in silence as well as we all stared up at the roaring thing and our cackling[4] professor.[5]

            It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was just supposed to have been a few days of stupid detention and nothing more. None of this was supposed to have happened.

            And yet, here we are. It had all begun back at the beginning of the year, with a completely stupid accident....

* * *

 

**Chapter 1 Book I Arc I**

            Seventh year began just like all the six previous ones had. Really, really, boringly. The same old stuff year after year. I have no idea how the teachers did it. None at all.[6]

            After boarding the train, I snagged a compartment after with Queezle, my best friend since I was an annoying little ankle-biter,[7] we promptly bickered about the summer,[8] fought had a polite conversation with Faquarl and Jabor when they attempted to enter our compartment, and then happily greeted Ptolemy when he managed to escape his overbearing sisters and other assorted not-quite-sane family members of his who also attended Hogwarts.[9] We spent the ride catching up, playing the occasional card game,[10] and finishing our summer homework.[11] This was how things had gone since first year, and it would probably repeat itself again next year, before we all went our separate ways after graduation.

            The ride lasted too long, as per usual. I snagged a nap,[12] argued with Queezle over the benefits of pranking the teachers, and listened to Ptolemy talk about whatever obscure subject he had spent his summer studying,[13] as well as his family’s annual reunion thingie that they had every summer in Egypt, where most of them were originally from, and many returned to live.[14] For some reason they both spent the last hour of the ride talking about hair care of all things. Hair care![15]

            Regardless, I still managed to sleep for about three hours before the train stopped in Hogsmeade. Groaning, I got up, patting Ptolemy on the knee and grinning as he flushed.

            “Thanks for being my pillow. You always make a good one.” I snickered, before wincing as Queezle flicked the back of my head.

            “Flirt later; let’s go grab a carriage before we’re forced to share one with Faquarl and Jabor again,” she said as we got off the train.[16] Thankfully, we managed to find a carriage without those two in it, even though there were already a few other people in it. Some gangly, scrawny Slytherin kid, with shoulder length black hair who I vaguely recognized from someplace or another, and a shorter,[17] stocky, Gryffindor girl that I was pretty certain was on the quidditch team. I think her name was Jones or something like that.[18]

            The carriage arrived at the school and we all went our separate ways. Queezle and I joined our classmates at the Hufflepuff table, Ptolemy went to the Ravenclaw one, the other two went to their own tables, and that was that. My foot tapped the floor impatiently as I waited for the Headmaster to speak already so we could eat. Queezle stepped on my foot, shooting me a warning glance as I sighed, resting my chin on my hand as I watched the new firsties being sorted. Since when had they all gotten so short? They kept shrinking each year it seemed, and soon enough they’d be so short you wouldn’t be able to see them, and my mind is wandering.

            The sorting ended soon enough, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,[19] Uraziel, stood up, a wide grin on his face that had half the older girls sighing.[20]

            “Welcome to our new students! And welcome back to our old ones! It’s so good to see everyone again! Hopefully this year will be as good as the last one! As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that, Forbidden.” He began[21] with a warm voice.

            “Additionally, Mr. Simpkin has added several more items to the list of banned items that is on his office door, if anyone cares to read over that list, which I believe to have over several hundred things on it, he does not wish to see in the corridors. Now, I hope that you all have a splendid year! Dig in!” And with a flourish of his arms, the peacock sat down as the food appeared. I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes at him, even as Queezle jabbed me in the arm with a fork.

            “Be nice.” She hissed, “You may not like Uraziel, but you do still have to deal with him for the rest of this year. You can go off to live as the hermit you’ve always wanted to be after you’ve graduated,” she said, as she piled some vegetables[22] onto my plate. I made a face.

            “I don’t want to be a hermit; I just want to be left alone. There is a difference there, Queezle. And why do you always put gross green things onto my plate,” I said, making a disgusted noise as I poked them around with my fork.

            “Hermit, being left alone, there really isn’t as big a difference between those two as you may think, Bartimaeus. And honestly, stop poking at them and just eat the damn things, they won’t kill you. Or do you want Faquarl to somehow find out that you have an eternal hatred for all things green and leafy so that he can use that to get his revenge on you? Hmm?” Damn her. She always knew how to get me to do things. Thankfully we were now in seventh year, and soon enough I’d never ever have to deal with Faquarl or Jabor again, and I could go off and live my life in peace.[23]

            I grumbled, and grudgingly ate the green things on my plate, grumbling under my breath the entire time. Bleh. Vegetables were nasty, and it was pure torture to make me eat them, but at least the desserts were always good. The feast passed quickly though, as it always did, and by the time it was done I just wanted to go back to sleep again.[24] The food disappeared from the tables, and I rolled my eyes at the awe on some of the firsties faces. Uraziel stood up again and silence fell through the hall as everyone turned to face him.

            “Once more, I wish to welcome our new students, and our old ones. I also would like to remind everyone that magic outside of class is frowned upon. Club signups begin next week, and if extra help is needed in a class, please talk to your teacher. Additionally, I would like to welcome our temporary History of Magic teacher, Professor Lovelace, as Professor Tchue is away on a very important archeological dig for the year, and our newest Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Khaba. That is all. Prefects, please make sure that all first years get settled into their dorms safely.” Finished, he swept out of the hall through the teachers’ entrance behind their table. Immediately the hall grew noisy with the sounds of prefects shouting at the tiny eleven year olds to follow them, and with the general chaos that was usually associated with the end of the welcoming feast. Queezle and I slipped away from the crowds and made our way to the Hufflepuff dorms on our own.

            “So, we’ve got another new DADA professor. Think that this one’ll be any good?” I asked her idly as we took a shortcut down to our dorms.

 

            “No idea. I haven’t heard of him though. Ptol might have, you should ask him. What happened to Whatshisface from last year anyways?” She asked, frowning.

 

"I dunno man, Odalis? Yeah, something about a startled face in a bathroom tile." I shrugged.

 

"No, no not him…" She said, chewing on her lip and waving a hand about as she tried to remember the name of one of the many DADA teachers we had had over our stint at the school.

 

"Azul? Apparently he was petrified to stone after a nasty incident. Basilisk was involved. Like I said, nasty…" I rambled on, snickering lightly as Queezle threw me a glare.

 

"Be nice, but yeah, that’s the one. It gets weirder and weirder every year. Philocretes really took the cake though, let me tell you. I doubt that anyone will manage to top that," she said as we reached the entrance to the dorms, hearing the chattering, high pitched voices of the eleven year olds following the Hufflepuff prefects.[25]

 

"Yeah, you can still hear old Philocretes talking to himself in a pot. We think it’s his ghost." I snickered as she rolled her eyes, tapping the barrel to open the door.

 

"Yeah, not entirely sure about that rumor. Nobody’s been willing to investigate, so…" She trailed off as we entered the cozy[26] common room that belonged to us ‘Puffs.

 

“Ah well, we’ll just have to wait and see if this Khaba is any good then. Can’t be any worse than Tallow was. I’m going to bed though, so I’ll see you at breakfast or whatever tomorrow Queezle,” I said, stretching my arms above my head before grinning at her as she nodded.

 

“You have a point there. And try not to be late this year. You’re impossible to handle in the mornings if you don’t get breakfast,” she said before heading off to the girls dorm. I turned the other way and entered the boys’ dorm, ignoring the few other seventh years in there[27] as I flopped down face first onto the bed, quickly falling asleep. I could already tell that this year was going to be an interesting one, whether I wanted it to be, or not.

 

* * *

 

[1] Which I usually tried to be, regardless of how bad the situation might be.

[2] Normally I’d be congratulating who or whatever managed to make him speechless, since it was a very rare occurrence, but under these circumstances, well, we were all more than a little bit speechless ourselves.

[3] And blunt.

[4] Seriously, he was legitimately cackling, and it was weird.

[5] Well, probably ex-professor now; I knew he’d never be a good replacement for old Tchue, temporary or not.

[6] If I had to deal with all of the same stuff for somewhere going on thirty years, without end in sight, I think I’d go crazy.

[7] Ask anyone, I really did bite people apparently.

[8] She can be such a ‘Claw sometimes with how much she misses the library over the summer.

[9] Which was such a dumb name for a school in my opinion. That had been my stance since I could say the word, much to the chagrin of my parents, and that would never change.

[10] With Queezle usually kicking our asses at them. Seriously, that girl could probably make millions from playing poker if she lived in Vegas.

[11] Well, okay, with me finishing my summer homework by pestering Ptolemy until he let me read off of his.

[12] Ptolemy’s lap made a surprisingly comfortable pillow, considering how little he was. Honestly, he was barely 5’5”!

[13] After first year it had been magical creatures, the following year it had been different magical cultures, and so on. This year it had apparently been elemental magics or something like that.

[14] Although about half the family was Macedonian now and had been for a while, even though for some reason they all seemed to have gone to school in Britain for the past four hundred years. Confusing stuff pureblood families were, always made me glad that I wasn’t one.

[15] Granted, Ptol’s hair was a thick, untamable mess, and Queezle’s wasn’t much better, even though hers was longer. It just got tangled and into everything.

[16] Ah yes, everyone had done their best to keep us from being stuck in the same vicinity for long, since the ahem, incident in third year that ended up with the four of us (because Ptolemy is always good about staying out of things, it also helped that he was still a year below us) having detention until Christmas before the feast had even started.

[17] But still taller than Ptolemy.

[18] Little did I know it at the time, but those people in the carriage with me would end up becoming some of the best (and worst) friends I’ve ever have. But at the time, I had no idea about any of what would happen that year, so I just stared out the window as Ptol struck up a conversation about some ancient runes thing with the Slytherin kid and Queezle and the Gryffindor talked about quidditch.

[19] Try saying that five times fast after a shot or two of firewhiskey!

[20] I didn’t see the appeal, the man was probably old enough to be their father, attractive as he may be.

[21] I could’ve sworn he, and some of the other teachers, shot me a glance when the forest was brought up. That was unfair, it had been years since I had been caught going into the forest. Honestly…

[22] Gross.

[23] With, you know, the occasional visit to Ptolemy, have to keep his life interesting, and make sure that he hasn’t drowned himself in books, yeah?

[24] But that was nothing new, Queezle swore up and down that I would hibernate all year round if I could. I always agreed with her on that.

[25] I was always thankful that I had never been made one of them, although I knew that with my track record it was impossible. And by her association with me, Queezle wasn’t one either. I doubted that she cared that much anyways.

[26] I used the term loosely. The room had always been a bit too yellow for my tastes.

[27] Especially Jabor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, I still can't believe that I wrote this, but whatever. I'm going to try to keep up weekly updates (so that'll be every Tuesday probs) and yeah. Really hope that you enjoyed it, please leave comments, and constructive criticism uvu
> 
> Also a HUGE thanks to JTJonah for being awesome in general, and for being the beta for this story uwu


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel tries to be the perfect Slytherin. Detentions are gained and Lovelace is probably the worst teacher ever.

**Chapter 2 Book I Arc I**

 

Nathaniel John Underwood prided himself on being an example of the perfect Slytherin. He was always immaculately dressed, his hair was always in perfect place, and he always, _always_ prepared for whatever life might throw his way. He was the top of all of his classes (take _that_ Jane Farrar!), and he was the favourite of his head of house, the potions professor Jessica Whitwell. Everything in his world was always ordered and precise, and that was just how he liked it. He gave a quick nod at himself in the mirror to check that his uniform was neatly pressed and hung perfectly from his ~~skinny~~ slender frame, before pulling on his robes and pinning his brand new prefects badge to them. He left the dorm room satisfied, to head up from the dungeons for breakfast. He allowed himself a small smile as he walked through the hallways. He always missed Hogwarts over the break. Sure he was fond of his adoptive mother, and to an extent he respected his adoptive father, but they were nothing compared to Hogwarts, with her library and centuries worth of knowledge hidden away. Hogwarts was his home, his solace, and it had been for four, now five, years.

He nodded stiffly to the other fifth year prefect, Jane Farrar, as he sat down at the house table, moving some food to his plate and pouring himself a cup of tea. He added a large amount of sugar and cream to it, before drinking it slowly, as other students filtered into the hall. The owls flew in and he looked up from his tea, a vague half-smile flitting across his face as he watched his screech owl, Ascobol, fly in and drop a copy of The Daily Prophet into his lap. The owl was fed a few pieces of bacon, before being shooed off so Nathaniel could open up the newspaper and skim it for the twenty minutes he allotted himself for breakfast.

“Underwood. Here’s your schedule for the year. I expect you to keep up your previous in class achievements.” Ah, there was professor Whitwell, just on time with his schedule. He smiled politely up at her, carefully taking the piece of parchment she handed to him as he nodded.

“Of course professor,” was all that he murmured, knowing that she wouldn’t listen to anything else he said by this point. A quick glance at his silver pocket watch told him that he was now five minutes ahead of his predicted schedule. That was always a good way to start the school year, and so he stood up, folded his newspaper neatly, and picked up his schedule. He then turned to make his way out of the great hall, so that he could go and pick up his books for his first few classes. He was stopped on his way though by the one person in the school that he currently counted as a friend, fifth-year Hufflepuff Rebecca Piper. Nathaniel couldn’t help but grin at her as she smiled at him.

“Good morning Nathaniel. I hope that you had a good summer! I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you on the train, I ended up having to comfort a few upset first years,” she said, joining him as they left the great hall.

“Don’t worry about it; I spent the ride reading through this year’s textbooks again anyways. My summer went as usual. How was yours? Which classes do we have together this year?” He let himself fall into the easy small talk he always had with her.

“I don’t see why you keep reading them; you have them memorized by the middle of the summer. And mine was fine, we spent a month out in the country with my grandparents. Now let’s see...” She took hold of his schedule, reading it over. “We have Arithmancy on Mondays and Wednesdays, Transfiguration on Tuesdays and Fridays, Double Herbology on Thursdays, and Ancient Runes on Tuesdays as well. We’ve got a pretty good couple of classes together this year for once.”

“Well, that’s good then,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching a little as he held back a smile. He glanced at his pocket watch again; 8:45 AM. He had fifteen minutes left to get his things for his first two classes, and go to, he thought as he looked back down at his schedule, History of Magic.

“Mmhm. Anyways, you’d better get going, don’t want to be late when you get to have Tchue’s replacement first thing in the morning. I’ll see you for Arithmancy Nathaniel,” Piper said, before leaving with a quick wave, presumably heading back down to her own dorm to collect her things. Nathaniel nodded at her as she left, before turning towards the dungeons and efficiently making his way down to the Slytherin dorms.

He grabbed his bag, making sure that he had both his history of magic textbook and his Arithmancy one, knowing that he wouldn't have time to return to the dorm between classes. Another quick glance at his watch showed that there was a mere ten minutes left before class started, and so, off Nathaniel went. He was after all, just as unsure as anyone else about what the replacement History of Magic teacher was going to be like. No one had heard of Simon Lovelace before, whereas Tchue, their usual professor, was an internationally renowned magical archeologist, and went on digs often, which is why he wasn’t there this year in the first place.

Nathaniel made it to class with five minutes to spare, snagging his usual seat in the front row, closest to the door so he was able to watch everyone else file in slowly as nine AM drew nearer. At exactly nine, the sound of a clanging bell echoed throughout the school, letting everyone know that the first class of the year had begun. And with that, one professor Simon Lovelace swept into the classroom, elegantly tailored navy blue robes sweeping in behind him, as he shot the students what Nathaniel supposed was meant to be a charming smile. The fifteen year old boy let his eyebrows rise skeptically as he looked over the teacher. Honestly, he didn’t see how they would learn anything from a man who seemed to pay as much attention to his hair as many of the Slytherin girls did when they were going to their formal pureblood events. Well, obviously Headmaster Uraziel thought that he would make a good enough teacher, or he wouldn’t have hired the man. So Nathaniel settled into his seat, staying silent.

“Good morning class! My name is Simon Lovelace, and I will be your replacement professor for History of Magic until Professor Tchue returns from his dig in Egypt. I look forwards to teaching all of you,” he said, still smiling. Nathaniel wondered if his cheeks didn’t start to hurt from the amount of smiling he was doing. Also, when did some Gryffindor girl start sitting next to him? He shot the dark haired girl a pair of raised eyebrows, noting the two moles on her face, the density of her hair, and her stocky stature. Yes, this was one of the girls who had been in the carriage to the castle. She was also the Gryffindor chaser, he realized as she shot him her own two raised eyebrows. Thankfully, Lovelace told them all to get out their books just then, so that they could go over what they would be learning, and what would be expected of them on the O.W.L. exams, ,successfully catching the attention of the entire class. As books were shuffled around, parchment was pulled out, and quills were inked to take notes, their professor began to speak.

 

 

“Well that was a waste of time,” Nathaniel grumbled to himself, hoisting his bag over his shoulder as class ended. The girl he had been sitting next to looked over at him again.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Lovelace is just going to reiterate everything from the textbook and assign essays. This class is basically going to be a joke this year unless Tchue comes back soon,” he said, giving her a look that plainly told her what he thought of her intelligence, or lack thereof. He could almost hear her growl at him.

“Well isn’t that all that’s going to be on the stupid O.W.L.’s anyways?” She said, trotting to keep up with Nathaniel’s long stride. He inclined his head, even as he wondered why she was following him.

“Technically, yes, much of what is in the textbook will also be on the exam, but that does not mean that we will actually _learn_ anything from Lovelace. He seems to be the type to just make us read through the textbook on our own, and not actually _teach_ us about the things we are reading about.” He said slowly, causing her to nod slowly.

“How you managed to get that from just one class with the man, I’ll never know,” she said. Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why are you talking to me anyways? Aren’t you Gryffindor’s ‘star chaser’ or some other such nonsense? Don’t you have brainless oafs to chatter at, instead of bothering me?” He asked, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. She scowled.

“Well excuse me for wanting to get to know the idiot that I’m stuck sitting next to in that class for the rest of the year. Or did you not hear the part where Lovelace said that where we sat today was going to be our permanent seat?” she snapped, causing his eye to twitch.

“I heard him, I just don’t _care_ about who I’m stuck sitting next to. So if you will _kindly_ leave me alone Ms. Jones - ” he was cut off as a dark-skinned Hufflepuff came bounding down the corridor, talking loudly at a small, frizzy haired Ravenclaw about... cursed amulets?

“I’m telling ya Ptol! That amulet you wear is cursed and that’s why you can never go on a date with a girl!” the Hufflepuff was exclaiming. Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose again, before he smoothly interjected.

“You do know that that is an impossible thing to get cursed for? Besides, why would the…” he glanced down quickly at the amulet the shorter boy was wearing, briefly assessing what culture it was likely from before looking back up. “…Egyptians care about whether anyone goes on a date or not?” he said this, getting a stifled laugh from the Ravenclaw.

The Hufflepuff scowled at him. “Oh butt out kid, what do you know about cursed amulets anyways?” he snapped.

“Obviously more than _you_ if you’re dense enough to think that anyone would curse an amulet to prevent someone from going on a date with a girl,” Nathaniel replied stiffly. The Gryffindor girl decided now be a good time to step in between the two boys.

“Calm down. No one’s amulet is cursed anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Alright?” She said this, looking from Hufflepuff to Slytherin, before the Ravenclaw interjected.

“I’m sorry, but I beg to differ; my amulet might indeed be cursed. Miss, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend to test that theory?” he said, grinning impishly up at her, even as the Hufflepuff gaped at him.

“Ptol! You can’t just do that! That’s not fair!” he whined, causing the Ravenclaw’s eyebrows to raise, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Oh can’t I Rekhyt? After all, it would prove to you that my amulet is indeed not cursed to keep girls away from me,” he said, grinning. The Hufflepuff scowled, and turned to Nathaniel.

“Don’t call me that in public. And he’s not going out with your girlfriend,” he said flatly, causing Nathaniel to start up in shock.

“Wait - what? She’s not my girlfriend! I don’t even know her _name_ ,” he protested, waving his hands out in front of him.

“Yeah, like I’d _ever_ date this idiot,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, regardless, Miss...?” The Ravenclaw trailed off, waiting for her name.

“Jones. Kitty Jones,” she said shortly.

“Miss Jones, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade?” That ‘Claw sure was persistent, Nathaniel noted, crossing his own arms over his chest as the boy turned to him.

“Or perhaps you would like to go with me, to prove to my friend Rek - _Bartimaeus_ here that there is no curse keeping me from having relationships.”

“Nonono! You’re _not_ taking a random kid to Hogsmeade Ptolemy! Besides, they’re both probably only like, twelve and that’s just gross,” the Hufflepuff said, pouting at the Ravenclaw.

“I am not _twelve_ thank you very much. I happen to be a fifth year. Regardless, _you’re_ the one acting like you’re twelve. Leave me _out_ of your lover’s spat,” Nathaniel said scathingly, frowning at the Hufflepuff as he brushed a few black curls away from his face.

“Psh, are you sure about your age, _squirt_ , because you certainly don’t look fifteen. Have your balls even dropped yet? And it is _not_ a _lover’s spat!_ ” he shot back at Nathaniel, and just like that, wands were drawn. Nathaniel’s pointed at Bartimaeus, Ptolemy’s pointing at Nathaniel, Kitty’s pointing at Ptolemy, and Bartimaeus’ pointing at Kitty. This was the scene that Professor Lovelace walked into, as he entered into the hall.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A bunch of upperclassmen, oh, and _women_ , fighting in the halls on the very first day?” He said this, even as the four of them hurried to stuff their wands away, trying to lessen how bad the scene had looked.

“Oh no prof, not fighting! Ya see, Ptolemy and I had overheard these two fifth years coming from DADA and talking about the proper way to hold a wand and worry over whether it might come up on their O.W.L.’s, so naturally, being the older students, we felt that we had to help them, both by showing them the proper way to hold their wands, and assuring them that there was only a very slim chance that it would show up on the exam!” Bartimaeus said, all in one breath as he somehow managed to wrap his arms around the other three, grinning cheekily up at the tall professor.

“You, Mister Uruk, are from what I hear, not the most trustworthy of students, and by association, I am obligated to not trust your ah, _friends_ here completely either. And since I assume that I’ll get nothing but the same story from the four of you, I shall hand out the punishment that I see fits the crime. Yes, I think it will be four Saturdays of detention for fighting in the hallways, another two for drawing wands on fellow students, and oh, yes, let’s see, another two for lying to a professor about it. So that will be eight Saturdays of detention for the four of you. Just be happy that I am not bothering to take house points for such a _trivial_ matter. Now, run along to your classes, before you _do_ get points taken off for being late,” Professor Simon Lovelace said, grinning down at them from behind his glasses, blond hair slicked back. Before he turned, his robes swirling behind him as he stalked back to his classroom, leaving four gaping students in his wake.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter two, as told from Nat's POV. Hope y'all enjoyed it, please leave comments or whatever, suggestions are lovely (and will usually make their way into the story somehow). I don't own anything that you can recognize as the work of Jonathan Stroud or J.K. Rowling, and like, half of the ideas in this story come from people on tumblr. Beta'd for me by the wonderful Jojo.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty is Not Happy with detention. But she likes quidditch.

**Chapter 3 Book I Arc II**

  


“I can’t believe that man!” Kitty Jones raged, as she thumped down into a seat next to her friends at the Gryffindor table. She kicked her bag underneath, as she dumped food onto her plate, barely checking to make sure she was taking only the vegetarian options.

“Which man do you mean this time?” Stanley asked from across the table, snorting. She glared at him.

“Lovelace,” She hissed. “It’s the first goddamn day back, and I already have detention for the next _eight_ Saturdays thanks to a couple of complete _idiots,_ ” she said, stabbing angrily into her salad with a fork, as the others around her raised their eyebrows.

“It’s the first day back and you already have _how many_ days of detention?” Fred Weaver asked, as he sat next to her. Fred had been one of Kitty’s friends since first year. She swallowed her mouthful of salad.

“ _Eight!_ All eight of my next Saturdays are gone! And all because _Underwood_ can’t keep his damn mouth shut, and that _stupid_ Hufflepuff seventh year felt the need to lie to a teacher!” she scowled even harder as her friends all snickered.

“Well what do you expect? Underwood is a teacher’s pet, through and through. Correcting everyone is just something he always feels the need to do…wait, which ‘Puff are you talking about?” Asmira asked. Asmira was a sixth year Gryffindor, with glinting dark eyes that matched the hijab she wore to cover her hair. A dark-skinned hand reached out to snag a bread roll, as she sat down across the table from the younger girl. Kitty shrugged.

“I don’t really know, he was about six foot two something. He had longish dark hair? Kinda curly or wavy? His name though, it was something like Barti…Barti…”

“- Bartimaeus?”

“Yeah, that was it. The Ravenclaw called him something else first though,” she said, eating another forkful of salad as she nodded. Asmira sighed and shook her head.

“Yeah, no one but Queezle Ffoukes, and Ptolemy Soter can ever make him tell the truth. I heard Faquarl Nevrakis can too. You know, depending on how hard he’s hitting. Or how hard that big guy Jabor’s hitting too, I guess,” Asmira said blandly, as Kitty gave her a questioning look.

“Seriously? Aren’t Hufflepuff’s supposed to be trustworthy or something?” she asked, causing the older girl to snicker and shake her head again.

“Something like that, but really, no one’s quite sure how Bart got into Hufflepuff. Regardless, never trust him to tell the truth to a teacher, alright Kitty?”

“Yeah, alright, never trust Bartimaeus to tell the truth. Ever. Got it. With luck though, once these detentions are done I won't have to talk to him again,” she said, finishing up her lunch, before checking her schedule. She groaned, as she saw that she had double potions next. She really did not want to spend her afternoon in the smelly potions classroom, especially not when that class was with the Slytherins, which meant that she would have to see a certain Nathaniel Underwood. He was the reason why she now had so many detentions, after all. Why did she ever have to talk to him in the first place?

“I’m going to go get my stuff for class now,” she announced as she stood up, picking up her bag from the floor as she did. Fred got up as well, flashing her a grin.

“I’ll go with you. We’ve got potions together next, yeah?” She nodded as he fell into step beside her.

“With luck I won’t get into Whitwell’s NEWT class, so I won’t have to take it again,” he joked, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, unfortunately I do need to take her NEWT class. I think the fumes from that class are going to kill me one of these days. That is, if Whitwell doesn’t poison me herself,” Kitty snickered. The potions mistress dislike of all things and all persons was well known. As was her distaste for talented students that were unlucky enough to be in a House other than her own. It was too bad for herself then, Kitty thought; she had a natural affinity for potions, and it showed. She figured that it might have had something to do with how she grew up cooking, but that was beside the point. She was a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin, placing her automatically at the end of Whitwell’s disdain. The feeling was mutual though; Kitty didn’t think highly of her either. She was grossly unfair, took points from everyone for everything, and handed out detentions like they were candy. It riled Kitty up, but after three years of confrontations in that class, she had come to learn that she needed to keep her mouth shut if she wanted to pass at all.

“She wouldn’t poison you; I think that Button would murder _her_ if she killed his favourite student.” Kitty shoved Fred as they reached the portrait leading to their common room.

“I am _not_ his favourite; I just actually contribute to his class,” she retorted. Yeah, that was it, she thought as she entered the common room, rolling her eyes again as Fred continued to snort. She headed up to the fifth year girls dorm and grabbed her books for potions, leaving the ones for History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures still lying on her bed. She headed back down to the common room quickly, books still in hand.

“To potions then, my lady?” Fred asked, jokingly offering her his arm as she glared at him.

“You’re an idiot,” was all she replied, before leaving the Gryffindor common room with him, ignoring his remarks as they started to make their way to the first floor potions classroom.

“And yet you keep me around anyways for some reason,” He said, as they tried not to get caught on any of the moving staircases.

“Who knows why,” She grumbled, before falling silent as they entered the potions classroom, snagging seats in the back. Here at least, they would be less at risk of having their potions meddled with, or drawing professor Whitwell’s ire. Slowly the other students began to straggle in from lunch, as only a select few of the Slytherin’s even looked forward to having an afternoon of double potions as well. Of course, as she saw him enter, Underwood _would_ be one of those actually looking forward to this class. He was one of Whitwell’s pets after all. Child prodigy and all that crap, along with being from an older family, she thought with a quiet snort of derision. It was all overrated in her opinion. Much better to actually prove that you’re capable then to rely solely on talent and your family name, she thought.

“Good afternoon class,” Professor Jessica Whitwell said smoothly, as she entered the room from her office. A small amount of murmured “good afternoons” replied back throughout room, causing the bone thin woman to frown. She strode up to the front of the classroom, as the black robes she always wore made her look even paler in comparison.

“This year, is the year you sit your O.W.L’s. Those in turn will lead you towards your path in life, and decide which courses you can take, and what you can achieve with your life. Some of you, I expect to see next year in my NEWT level course…others,” she paused, cold eyes sweeping the room, “I do not expect to see again after this year.” Her tone made Kitty shiver; it always did after the summer holidays. She always forgot just how cold the potions mistress was when she wasn’t around her all the time. _Only two more years,_ she told herself, holding in a grim smile. _Two more years and I won’t have to deal with teachers like her who don’t want me around. I’ll be out and finally able to make a_ real _difference in the world!_ And with those thoughts swirling around her head, Kitty Jones dug out her parchment and inked her quill to take down whatever notes  Professor Whitwell was writing on the board.

“Now, this year we shall be covering poisons, both common and uncommon ones, and their antidotes. Hopefully by now you all know that a bezoar, found in the stomach of a goat, is usually the go to antidote when it is discovered that someone has been poisoned. However, there are some very lethal poisons that render that antidote useless....” Professor Whitwell began to drone on, as Kitty allowed herself to doodle on the parchment she was meant to be taking notes on, wondering who the Gryffindor quidditch captain was this year, and ignoring the looks she could feel were getting thrown back at her by Nathaniel. She resisted the urge to flip him off, knowing that then she _would_ lose house points, because at least one of the Slytherins in the class would report it to Whitwell. And she would probably get even more detentions on top of all that. Instead she nudged Fred with her elbow in order to whisper at him.

“I told you she was planning on poisoning me. How much do you wanna bet that I’ll be forced to drink at least one thing in class this year?” She watched as he stuffed his hand into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and grinned, ducking her head as she wrote down a few actual notes on her page.

  


***

  


One double period class, a roll of parchment, and half a bottle of ink later, Kitty was grateful to be leaving the potions classroom. She wasn’t the only one happy to be done with classes as they all filed out, knowing that potions was probably everyone’s least favourite class. After all, Whitwell barely had tolerance for certain students within her own House, let alone others. Kitty massaged her sore hand, ignoring Fred as he talked at her while they made their way back to the Gryffindor dorms.

“So, you plan on being the star chaser again this year?” Fred asked her as they waited for a set of staircases to move. She shrugged.

“I plan on being on the team again, yeah. Dunno much about being the ‘star chaser.’ I think that’s a load of BS, but whatever,” she said, scowling as he laughed and threw an arm over her shoulders.

“Kitty, you have been the ‘star chaser’ of the team since you started playing in second year; you’re the reason that the Slytherin team has barely won any of their matches against us. Just watch, you’re going to be playing professionally by the time that you graduate.” She pushed his arm off of her, pursing her lips as she stared at him.

“Fred, I don’t _want_ to play professionally. I’m going to either go work at the Ministry, or be a Healer. I haven’t decided yet,” she said bluntly. He gaped at her.

“But...but Kitty! You’re the best chaser that Hogwarts has seen in _years!_ You’re even better than Farrar! You _have-_ ”

“No Fred. I don’t care if I’m the best chaser Hogwarts has seen, I play the game because it’s fun, and that is that,” she said, before pushing past him to enter into the Gryffindor common room.

“And now I’m just going to drop this stuff off, and then I’m going to go to the library. I can’t believe that Whitwell assigned us a foot long essay on the first day back,” she grumbled, getting a sulky nod from Fred.

“Fine, fine. I’m gonna go find Nick,” he said, before wandering off. Kitty let out a sigh, glad for some quiet. Fred was a good friend and all, but in the last few years he had gone from a quiet, shy kid, to one who barely ever shut up. And he also seemed to have gotten it into his head that she was meant to be a quidditch star, when she really didn’t even want to play professionally. Quidditch stars didn’t make reforms in the magical world, after all. They didn’t help to combat the corruption that seemed ever present in politics, or work towards much change at all. But now was not the time to be thinking of such things.

She quickly stuffed some more parchment as well as an extra quill and bottle of ink into her bag, making sure that she still had her potions text and notes from that day with her, before trudging off to the library. She made sure to slip in quietly before making her way over to an empty corner table, avoiding the librarian all the while.

Honorius the librarian was notorious for his dislike of the students, especially when they had the utter _gall_ to enter what he seemed to think was _his_ library. He tended to prowl around the shelves and glare students down whenever he saw them touching a book. And heaven forbid you ever get an overdue notice. Rumour was that he ate students with overdue library books. No one was actually sure how true or not that was, but Kitty never planned to find out, and had always made sure to get her library books back with plenty of time to spare whenever she dared check one out.

She settled down at a half-hidden table in the corner, with her bag placed onto the chair beside. She huffily pushed the short ends of her dark hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face, as she pulled out her book and writing materials. As she opened up her book to the potion she was set to write an essay on, she inked her quill and sat there…and sat there…and sat there…and sat…

She sighed heavily, letting her quill drop into the ink bottle unceremoniously, as her head slowly fell forwards to rest on the table. It was only four in the afternoon, and there were still two hours to go before dinner, and Kitty was already feeling like she was about to call the day just done. She already had an essay to write, and eight days of detention, and school had barely just begun. She was just thankful that she hadn’t put her House into the negative points range too.

Turning around in her seat in order to get a better view, she found herself groaning inwardly. Just great, it was the dumb Hufflepuff from earlier named Bart. He was there with the tiny Ravenclaw yet again, though interestingly enough there was a group of other ‘Claws with them as well. He was trying to sit calmly (if he did calmly that was)  in a chair that was leaned back so much it might as well be a less than comfy bed. He looked as if he was about to fall off it, talking face upwards at a dark haired Slytherin she had never actually seen before. Well, she had seen him before. She just wasn’t acquainted with him. There was another Hufflepuff next to him who stood at least a head taller than everyone else. Considering the Slytherin wasn’t that much taller from Ptolemy, the difference in height was definitely noticeable. Talk about a mixed crowd. She wondered what that was all about…and wait, was that a squirrel on the table? She squinted a little before deciding that yes, that was indeed a squirrel on the table. A live, perceptibly scared squirrel too. I mean it wasn’t her business, but it was definitely weird. The thought of the essay she had to turn in by Thursday morning brought her back, as well as the thought of even more detentions if she didn’t finish it on time as well.

She really hoped that this year would turn around for her soon, so it wouldn’t be all bad. It would probably be best if she did what she could to avoid those other three for the rest of the year, especially once they got done with all of their detentions. It was only two months after all, and how bad could anything get in two months? Especially since Lovelace seemed to be such a dull teacher, she doubted that the detentions would be anything worse than writing lines. She thought about this as she gave up on her essay for now and packed up her things, figuring that she could maybe go fly around the quidditch pitch for a bit before supper. The weather was still nice enough after all to do so, and maybe it would help get her to think. Either way, she was getting away from those seventh years that were now tossing the squirrel around and arguing loudly, and was that thing now in his _mouth?!_

 

***

 

A quick stop at her dorm to drop off her bags, a change of uniform, and a pick up of her broom later, and Kitty was off to the quidditch pitch. She grinned when she saw that it was empty of any other people when she arrived, and was quick to mount her Comet 290 before taking off. Maybe it wasn’t the best broom on the market, but it was a sturdy and reliable one, and Kitty loved it.

Kitty loved flying too. It was a comfort for her, and had been since her first lesson when she was eleven and had just entered the magical world. She didn’t even care too much for quidditch, she just liked to fly. It helped clear her mind, even when she flying upside down, and in and around the goal posts like now. It was only when she heard slow clapping that she stopped, eyes scanning the area below her before she saw the source of the sound. Someone was in the stands. Frowning, Kitty flew over to the person, before sighing to herself when she caught sight of who it was.

“What do you want?” She asked Nathaniel Underwood stiffly, as she hovered down next to him without landing. He shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“Nothing, I was just walking around and saw someone flying around doing the kind of stupid tricks that could kill a normal person. So obviously, I had to walk over and see who was stupid enough to try. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that it was you but I guess you’re good, so…yeah,” he ended lamely, leaving Kitty staring down at him suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

“So, what’s the other reason you have to come over talking to me? Is there something you want?” she asked, as she continued to stay hovering in the air, keeping eye level contact with him. His eyebrow rose, and his head tilted to the side a little, before he burst into laughter, making her scowl.

“I’m sorry, I really am, it’s just-” he began, before laughing again, taking a few minutes before composing himself again.

“I really am sorry, but that was just too funny. However no, I do not want anything from you; I just figured I might as well talk to you some, since we _are_ going to be stuck in detention for eight days together,” he said, standing straight again. She blinked, squinting at him.

“Are you drunk?” She said bluntly, causing him to stop and stare at her, before snorting and shaking his head.

“Of course not, I can’t drink yet; I’m still underage after all -”

“Hasn’t stopped anybody before.”

“- and besides, I’m at _school_ , so there is no way that I’d get drunk,” He finished, before pulling out a silver pocket watch, flicking it open and glancing at it. “Anyways, you might want to go in now if you plan to clean up before dinner. It’s five thirty-five. See you around Jones,” he said before turning away, hand half-raised as he left.

Kitty shook her head. She didn’t know what to do about that boy. He was just so _weird_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about how long it took to update this. The chapter was being held hostage until I got my homework done. Plus I went to Europe for twelve days. So yeah. Hopefully we'll get to some more regular updates soonish. Who knows tho. Much thanks to everyone who was read this, or left kudos or anything else like that. And even more thanks to the beautiful Jojo for editing it for me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faquarl makes his entrance. There is a squirrel. Khaba wears pink robes. And has a creepy shadow. Also this chapter gets kind of gay.

**Chapter 4 Book I Arc II**

  


Ptolemy Soter had a headache. He sighed as he sat back in his seat in the library, Bartimaeus at his right, the only non-Ravenclaw in the small group surrounding him. Affa, Penrenutet, Teti, and Methys all shared the same House, and had gathered around him as a nuclear group since first year. He had no idea why. When it came to things like this, the short, dark skinned, frizzy haired boy was completely lost. Regardless, it had become another part of what he loved about Hogwarts. He had friends, interesting classes, and a large library to spend his free hours in. It was so different from when he was at home.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his home and his family, because he did. Honestly though, it just got…overwhelming sometimes. With all the people, the noise, the protocol, and the formalities that came with being part of an ancient pureblood family. Not to mention the itchy dress robes. He hated the itchy dress robes with a passion. Hogwarts was definitely a much needed break from having to deal with the summer social scene. And the family reunion. And his cousins. And how much everyone drank. Just thinking about it all made him sigh, causing Bartimaeus to look at him.

“Something wrong Ptol?”

And just like that, the other four looked up from their respective books at him as well. He smiled softly, shaking his head.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy to be back here with you guys,” he said quietly, picking his Ancient Runes textbook back up to hide the smile on his face, as he watched Bartimaeus roll his eyes.

“You’re a real sap sometimes, you know,” he snickered. Ptolemy just shook his head continuing to smile, before he immersed himself back into his book once more.

He managed to get another ten minutes of reading before Bartimaeus got visibly bored, leaning back into his chair, making it squeak obnoxiously.

Another five minutes and the Hufflepuff had his wand out, muttering things under his breath so it shot out tiny colourful sparkles.

Two minutes later, Ptolemy looked to his side again to see that Bartimaeus had transfigured his quill into a squirrel. He raised his eyebrows at him.

Thirty seconds later and he was up and out of his chair, leaning over Bartimaeus’ lap in an attempt to snatch the wand out of his hand. He could see now that his friend was trying to set the transfigured squirrel on the pair of seventh years that had just walked in, and he had to stop him.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. His voice stayed quiet as he continued to try and work the wand out of the Hufflepuff’s hand. “We are in the _library._ You do not need to be starting fights on the first day. Well, anymore than you already have. You don’t need more detentions -”

“Well, well, Bartimaeus! Good to see you. Had a good summer? Heard you already got more than a few detentions…also shouldn’t the two of you know by now that you can’t fuck around in the library?” And there was Faquarl. Ptolemy sighed, rolling his eyes as he shot Bartimaeus a last warning glance. He got up off of the Hufflepuff’s lap, and went back to his own seat.

“We weren’t fucking, Faquarl. I was trying to stop him from doing something stupid,” Ptolemy replied blandly, before bringing his book back up to the front of his face, effectively cutting off any answer from Faquarl. Not that he had anything against the Slytherin seventh year himself. It was just that when you got him, Jabor, and Bartimaeus in one room together, well…things usually went crazy pretty fast. There had been many memorable incidents between the three of them, after all. Well, mainly just between Bart and Faquarl, as Jabor mostly was there for muscle. Not the least of them being the “Ink Incident” in first year, the “Carriage Accident” of third year, the whole mess with the Black Lake and greenhouse four in fourth year. Last year had featured the two of them locked in a prank war for a month, until the teachers finally got fed up with them. It had become pretty much assumed by the entire student body that Bart and Faquarl were a ‘thing,’ at least at some point, although as far as Ptolemy knew neither of the two seventh years had done anything to encourage or discourage rumors of such. He had been hoping that the two of them would finally just start avoiding each other after the mess that they had caused at the leaving feast last year; especially since they would both finally be graduating. Unfortunately, it seemed that the two just couldn’t avoid annoying each other.

Though he tried to distract himself from them once again with his book, the unmistakable coughing and foot tapping of Honorius caught his attention, once again. Looking up with slight annoyance, he felt his eyebrows rise up in surprise at what he saw before him; somehow in the short timespan he had been looking away, the transfigured squirrel had ended up on Jabor’s head, Bartimaeus was being held in a headlock by Faquarl, Faquarl himself had somehow ended up sporting a new bright pink color of hair, and the other Ravenclaws had by now abandoned their books in order to place bets on the fiasco at hand. He couldn’t help but wonder how they had managed to end up like this in less than five minutes. Jabor didn’t even look terribly bothered by the squirrel on his head; he was feeding it bits from a sandwich he had been hiding in his bag. His attention moved back now to the skeletal librarian who continued to sear them with an affronted look; the man flicked his wand, changing Faquarl’s hair back to its natural color, and turning the poor squirrel back into a quill much to Jabor’s muted dismay.

“I want all of you damn kids out of my library. _Now!_ ” Honorius snapped sharply, glaring at the group from across the room. “That includes you!” He continued, turning towards the Ravenclaws and causing Affa to jump in surprise, before they scattered. They made a smart choice, knowing when to run.

Ptolemy sighed and quickly packed up his things, as Bartimaeus sulked back over to him. Faquarl and Jabor had also made a hasty exit with the other Ravenclaws, not wanting to test Honorius as well.

“Sorry about that,” the older boy mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they left the library. Ptolemy shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. What was that even about anyways? Why did you put the squirrel onto Jabor’s head?” he asked, looking up at Bartimaeus from the corner of his eye. The taller boy shrugged.

“I was aiming for Faquarl’s head actually. My aim was off,” he replied, causing Ptolemy to blink.

“And _why_ were you trying to put a squirrel onto Faquarl’s face...?” He let the sentence trail off as he looked up at his friend, trying to keep a straight face. Sometimes the things Bart did amazed even him, and that was saying something. Especially considering the things Ptolemy had seen him do over the past six years.

“Well _technically_ I was trying to put it into his _mouth_ because he wouldn’t shut up. Moving on though, did you see what Khaba was _wearing_ today? It was just so.... _pink!_ I swear, I nearly went blind in his class today!” Bartimaeus exclaimed, waving his hands around for emphasis. Ptolemy couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

“Still, you shouldn’t have tried to put a squirrel in his mouth. Remember last time, with the prank war? I’m guessing you also remember  all those detentions we already have too. Did I mention the NEWTs this year too? We need to concentrate on important things; or should I say, _you_ need to concentrate things…and seriously? Was it that bad?” he asked, letting his curiosity finally get the better of him now. Because honestly, what kind of teacher would wear _pink_ robes?

Bartimaeus nodded, snickering. “Oh he’ll get over it. And hey, what’s more detentions to me now? But yeah, it really was that bad Ptol. Seriously the robes were-” He paused, and Ptolemy tilted his head, wondering why the other had stopped talking. That was, before he nearly yelped as he was pulled into an alcove.

“ _Shhh, there he is!_ ” The Hufflepuff whispered in his ear, throwing a hand over his mouth before he could protest. He shivered; now Ptolemy wasn’t one to lie to himself, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. However he had been finding it hard to admit for a while now the true nature of his feelings for who he considered to be his best friend. He had been finding it hard for the past three years, in fact. Not that it mattered now or anything, as he saw the almost blindingly bright pink robes of the new DADA professor enter into his vision. All thoughts of such things flew clean from his mind at the sight of _that_.

The robes were quite possibly, the most eye-searingly bright shade of pink he had ever laid eyes upon. Ptolemy felt the need to blink several times before eventually coming to a squint. He heard Bartimaeus snickering quietly against his ear, and he was hard pressed not to do the same. He couldn’t see why _anyone_ let alone a teacher would ever wear robes of that colour. Aside from that though, he had to admit that they were cut in the latest fashion style at least…although the matching turban did seem to be just a bit much. As he stayed with his eyes squinted he noticed something else too, and leaning back against Bartimaeus, he whispered to him.

“Is it just me, or does Khaba’s shadow seem a little... _off_ to you?” He felt Bartimaeus shift, leaning over the top of his head now to squint at the passing professor, before pulling back into the alcove quickly, tugging Ptolemy further back with him.

“ _It looked at me! His fucking shadow turned and_ looked _at me!_ ” he hissed into his ear, as the frazzled Ptolemy turned to look up at his friend frowning.

“What do you mean it _looked_ at you?” He asked brows furrowing, as he watched him peek around the corner to look at the receding back of the pink robed professor again.

“I _mean_ that his shadow stopped walking, and the head literally turned around and _looked straight at me Ptol!_ I know I’ve seen a lot of weird shit since starting school here, but that has got to be one of the freakiest things yet,” he said, before looking down at the Ravenclaw. Ptolemy watched as Bartimaeus eyes went wide, as it seemed he finally realized how close they were standing. Alright, so it was slightly amusing. Bartimaeus stepped back quickly, only to accidentally bang his back into the wall.

“…Ah. So. Well…sorry about grabbing you like that...” he mumbled wincing, scratching the back of his head in sheepishness. Ptolemy grinned.

“Don’t worry about it Rekhyt, it’s fine,” he said, before they both fell silent. Bartimaeus instinctively grabbed him again as a group of giggling Gryffindor girls walked past. The Ravenclaw felt his cheeks burn as he looked up at his best friend of the past six years. The sound of the girls finally receded away down the hall.

“I, uhm…” Ptolemy found himself stammering.

“Sorry,” he mumbled letting go once again.

“I said it’s okay.”

“…What?”

“It’s okay.”

“So it’s…”

“I’m fine with it.”

“Okay, so uhm…”

That was all that Bartimaeus said, before leaning forwards just enough to press his lips against Ptolemy’s, cutting off any more words from either of them.

 

***

 

Ptolemy’s face was still red when he sat at the Ravenclaw table for dinner, and the questioning looks he was receiving from Methys weren’t helping. Neither were the obnoxious eyebrow wiggles that Bartimaeus kept sending his way all the way over from the Hufflepuff table.

“So, did something finally happen?” asked Affa bluntly, causing Ptolemy to drop his fork.

“I’m sorry, but…what?” he replied, trying to mask the current state of his emotions, and failing terribly. His eyes flickering down so he didn’t have to face his snickering friends.

“Damn. Another month and I would’ve won the pot,” Penrenutet muttered, before getting the back of his head smacked by Methys.

“Oh don’t whine. We all figured that Queezle would win the pot anyways,” she said, before returning her attention to the book on her lap and the food on her table, curiosity sated. Ptolemy meanwhile slowly put his head down on the table, wondering how long this had been going on. He looked up frowning though when someone flicked his head, only to see Affa staring at him pointedly. He sighed.

“Yes Affa, something did happen. I mean, after our first detention anyway, we’re going to go to Hogsmeade together, so…yeah,” the boy said, before letting his face fall back into his hands once again, as he watched a few flashes of gold pass through the hands of his friends. He really did not want to know what bet that was about now. He’d had an eventful enough first day back as is, and could only hope that the rest of the week would pass by more smoothly. All he had to do was make it through his first (literally, his first) detention unharmed and sane, and he would be fine. The odds of that were looking questionable though…for now, he just wanted to eat dinner and then go straight to bed. So of course, that was what Ptolemy did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I didn't take forever to update! This chapter has actually been ready to post since Thursday but I wanted to get more of chapter seven written before posting it. Again, thanks to the lovely, glowing lampshade that is Jojo for editing this chapter. And comments, and kudos make me really happy to get okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First detention. No one is excited.

**Chapter 5 Book I Arc II**

Bored. bored, bored, boreeeeeeeeed. That was about the only thing I could manage to concentrate on at the moment, as I only half-listened to whatever it was that Professor Khaba was saying. At least his robes were more toned down today than they had been on Monday,[1] but they still made my eyes go cross if I stared at them for too long. So instead I tried to see if I could balance my quill on my nose as Khaba continued to drone on. Turns out that I couldn’t, and I ended up with ink smeared on my cheek for all my efforts. Queezle threw me a warning look, as her gaze flicked back to Khaba.

            “Stop goofing off.” She hissed as I let myself pout at her.

            “Queeeeeezle. I’m bored,” I whispered back, though I knew that whining in class would only make her give me the patented Shut Up And Listen Glare that I knew her so well for.

            “You’re going to get detention and make us lose house points in the process.” I made a face. Sure I didn’t want any more detentions than what I already had,[2] and I definitely didn’t want to lose house points.[3] All the same though, I also didn’t want to sit here and listen to Khaba just continue to drone _on._ I mean, his general creepiness didn’t help matters either. For example, the shadow thing he had going on with his pink robes. Seriously though; it had been four days since that incident where our newest DADA professor’s shadow was first seen by me and Ptol moving on its own,[4] and both of us have been keeping an eye on him ever since. He hadn’t stepped a toe out of line though since then. In fact, he seemed to be incredibly boring overall, his weird fashion sense none withstanding. I still didn’t like him, don’t get me wrong. That opinion had become almost unanimous among the student body by Thursday. He was by far one of the most boring DADA professors we have ever had, which could be forgiven if it wasn’t for the fact that we really weren’t learning much from his classes either. Tuning in to his lecture today, and all he had discussed so far was the ‘ministry regulations’ in his introductory speech, and some other things that I didn’t listen to. If only I could get this stupid quill to balance on my nose –

            The bell rang, startling me out of my concentration, and causing the quill to fall of my nose and land onto the ground. A quick grab later and it was stuffed into my bag alongside my books, and I let myself be half dragged into the hallways by Queezle.

            “Come on, I’m starved!” She said, as we entered into the great hall. We walked over to the Ravenclaw table, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t our house, seating ourselves around Ptolemy.[5] Before I could even put anything on my plate though, Queezle beat me to the punch, and spooned a dollop of leafy green evil on it. I made a face.

            “Really? Can’t I have one, just _one_ , day without you forcing me to eat those nasty green things?” I whined, even as she shot me a look.

            “They’re not that bad. I like them actually,” Ptolemy said, as he cheerfully put some on a plate of his own. Queezle smirked as my head dropped. Damn her for knowing my weakness. I let my head fall onto his shoulder as I pouted. He simply patted my head, as he continued filling up his plate with food.

            “Eat up. We’ve got Care of Magical Creatures next with Nouda, and you’ll end up having to muck out the unicorn stables if you whine about being hungry in his class,” he said, before returning his attention to the book on his lap, taking occasional bites off his plate. I poked at the green things on my own, and discreetly began moving them off, in an attempt to slide them onto Ptolemy’s. My efforts were in vain though. Queezle flicked a piece of bread at my head. I stuck my tongue out at her. Queezle rolled her eyes.

            “A real mature one you’ve got there Ptol.” She said. I felt Ptolemy pat my head again.

            “I know, right? At least he’s cute.”

            I made a face. I was not _cute._ The epitome of manliness would be a more fitting description, thank you very much. Ptolemy and Queezle started talking about some Arithmancy thing,[6] and soon Ptolemy’s other Ravenclaw friends joined in, so I turned back to my plate and grinned as I began to rearrange them into a fairly convincing mashed potato and broccoli imitation of a quidditch pitch. Turning from the conversation, Queezle took one look at my masterpiece[7] and slowly brought her gaze back to my face. I grinned cheekily at her. She let her palm smack loudly against her face.

            “I give up. I’ll see you guys in CoMC. I have to go to the library before class - and both of you had better be on time! That means no getting ‘accidentally’ locked in a broom closet again. That excuse will only work on Nouda once,” she said, giving Ptolemy and I a stern look. I think it was Ptol’s friend Penrenutet that gave out the low whistle. Ptolemy himself ducked his head, cheeks burning even as he grinned. I just smirked up at her once again.

            “But what if we really _do_ get locked in a broom closet this time?” I asked, the picture of innocence. Queezle put her hands on her hips.

            “Then I will make sure that Faquarl knows _exactly_ who ate his Transfiguration essay last year.” She said, before leaving. I slumped into my seat.

            “Dammit. Now we really have to be on time for class, or Faquarl will have another reason to kill me.” I sulked. Ptolemy patted my shoulder.

            “You’ll live. We should really get going though. I assume that you still need to get your books for class?” He said as he stood up. I nodded.

            “Yup. Queezle dragged me right here after Khaba’s class finished. Probably for the best. He didn’t take too kindly to me entering class and sweeping around it like I was him. I tried to convince Queezle to change her face into his, but she wouldn’t,” I said, snickering as he sighed. He said goodbye to his friends, as we left the hall.

            “I think that it’s probably a miracle that none of the teachers have offed you yet,” He continued, even as he let his hand slip into mine. I laughed.

            “I dunno…I’m pretty sure that Ramuthra tried to have the Devil’s Snare strangle me in first year, and then there was that hippogriff incident with Nouda in third year. And who could forget the thing with the dragons in fifth?” I said, idly swinging our joined hands back and forth as we walked, trying not to smile too much[8] as we made our way down to the Hufflepuff dorms. Ptolemy waited in the common room as I ducked into my dorm to grab my textbook for CoMC,[9] before returning and grabbing his hand again. I glared at a few staring firsties as we left. At least all the other ‘Puffs were used to seeing Ptolemy around enough by now that no one tried to tell him to get out. Thankfully our Prefects were pretty laid back when it came to these sorts of things anyhow.

            “I wonder what we’ll be going over in class today. Monday was just review after all,” Ptol mused as we walked through the hallways towards the first floor classroom that had a door to outside for when Professor Nouda felt like doing a practical class. I shrugged.

            “Hell if I know. I just hope that whatever we go over, it doesn’t try to take a bite out of me. I had more than enough of things trying to eat me last year.” I made a face as he snickered.

            “I know, you were always in the infirmary last year thanks to them. You had your own bed reserved for you.”

            “Yeah, yeah, laugh up my injuries. Let’s just go to class already. I can’t wait for the weekend...”

  


* * *

 

  
            I wasn’t lying when I said that I couldn’t wait for the weekend. If I get one more bite from a chizpurfle, I’m going to go on an exterminating spree.

            “Come on Bart, you have to get up. You have detention in an hour,” Queezle said, as she pushed me in an attempt to get me to wake up. I rolled over, pulling a pillow over my head.

            “Go ‘way Queezle. ‘s too early.” I mumbled. She pulled the pillow away.

            “If you don’t get your ass out of bed in the next five minutes, you’re getting an in-bed bath.” After hearing that, I was quick to scramble out of my warm bed. She would do it too, and I knew it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had, after all.

            “I’m up!” I had no wish to get soaked with cold water that morning.

            “Good. I’ll meet you in the common room so we can go down for breakfast. Your detention is ten to noon, so remember.” She smiled sweetly at me before finally leaving the dorm rooms. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, wincing at the knots in it before sighing. Might as well go shower, before Queezle decided that I’d taken too long.

            One shower later and I was following my best friend grudgingly down to the great hall, hair still damp, but pulled back into its normal hair tie.

            “Oh stop sulking. It’s only for two hours, and Ptolemy will be there with you,” my unsympathetic friend said with a roll of her eyes.

            “But it’s still detention.” I huffed, before slinking over to the table and sitting down.

            “You should try eating some fruit. I mean, it always helps me in the morning. There’s only twenty minutes before you guys have to be at Lovelace’s classroom anyway. I wouldn’t worry too much about it; you’ll probably have to just clean it up, or something boring and generic like that.”

            “Wh’t’v’r.” I mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. Queezle sighed. She turned to her own breakfast, starting a conversation with one of the other seventh year girls at our table. As I finished up, I gave a sigh of my own, before standing up and giving her a small jaunty wave.

            “See you at lunch then.” I left the great hall, stuffing my hands into my pockets. Making my way down to the History of Magic classroom, I had ample time to think to myself.

            Detention. Oh how I hated that word. I’d had plenty of them over the years,[10] so I wasn’t new to them. I still hated getting them though.

            I slunk into Professor Lovelace’s classroom, slipping into the seat next to Ptolemy, and ignoring the other two as we waited. Lovelace himself finally left his office at the front of the room, glaring at the four of us as he did so.

            “You four, are going to spend the next two hours cleaning. By hand and without any magic. Hopefully by the time all of your detentions are up, you’ll have learned not to argue or lie to teachers. If you break any of the cleaning equipment that Mr. Simpkin has provided for your use, you will have to replace it.” He gave a haughty sniff. “Now get started.” And with that, he whirled around dramatically. Silence followed the sound of his office door closing again.

            “... Well. We’d better get started I guess.” There was our Gryffindor girl, Kitty Jones. Short and stocky as ever, she was already standing up and heading over to the pile of cleaning supplies. Ptolemy followed her, rolling up his sleeves in preparation as well.

            “The sooner it’s done, the better,” he said, picking up a duster as Kitty grabbed a broom. I made a face and leaned back in my chair instead.

            “You two have fun with that. I think I’m gonna have a nap instead,” I said, putting my hands behind my head as I closed my eyes.

            “Ugh, that’s just immoral of him! Trying to make us clean up a _classroom_ , as if _we_ were janitors!” I heard Nathaniel mutter from a few seats away. I snorted.

            “Lovelace obviously doesn’t know how to run a good detention. Hell, he didn’t even stick around to properly supervise!” I blew a few loose strands of hair out of my face, looking over at the Slytherin, who was nodding.

            “He is a sorry excuse for a teacher. Wonder what hole Uraziel dragged him out of,” Nathaniel said, still sitting upright in his seat, with the same perfect posture that every pureblood seemed to have, chin resting lightly on his hand.

            “Probably a pretty deep one. I dunno if I can put up with seven more days of this,” I said, letting my chair fall forwards again. He huffed.

            “It’s just _insulting_ that he expects us to clean up his _classroom_. Honestly, even detention with _Simpkin_ would probably be better than this farce,” He continued, rolling his eyes.

            “Mmhm. This really is a crap excuse for a detention. Personally, I’d say that Lovelace could use a good prank to show everyone that he’s really not teacher material,” I said, grinning.[11] The sixth year shot me a suspicious look, but turned in his seat to face me, one dark eyebrow raised.

            “And just what,” he drawled, “kind of _prank_ , do you have in mind?” My grin widened and I scooted forwards, ignoring the disapproving look that I could feel Ptolemy directing towards me.

            “ _Well...”_

 

 

 

[1]They were still a hideous pink though, except this time it was more magenta-y than neon.

[2]I was already dreading the one I had tomorrow. My first two classes with Lovelace after that incident hadn’t been fun and I could see that he was itching to make me do some degrading menial task.

[3]People (i.e. Queezle) would yell at me if I did that.

[4]I mean there was that other thing that happened too. You know what thing. I refuse to admit that I had been hoping for something like that to happen since fourth year.

[5] You know. My new _boyfriend?_ Remember how that happened? If not, I could regale you with the story in full excruciating detail later. I of course never had any doubts that this would work out so well for me. I mean, sure he’s much more intelligent than me, bound for a bright future. And sure he’s from an old pureblood family, high class and all that. And sure, he was becoming more and more good looking with age and all that, drawing a few eyes besides mine. And sure, he might or might not have received a few offers more impressive than mine in the past, and all that. Like I said. No doubts. Whatsoever.

[6] I wouldn’t know, I had never taken that class myself. Yet.

[7] That I was looking down at with pride.

[8] I think that I’d give some of the other students a heart attack if I did. They weren’t used to me being outwardly happy and would probably force me to go to the infirmary.

[9] What was left of it anyways. My cousin’s Kneazle had taken offense to it for some reason over the summer and chewed off the cover.

[10] With a few of the more memorable ones landing me in the infirmary.

[11] Oh, I could hear all the things Queezle would say to such a suggestion now. Mostly reasonable arguments against such an idea, a rounding wallop of various insults against my intellect, and the invocation of past similar attempts on other teachers (or staff members) that had gone awfully wrong. Hey, I said I could hear all the things she would say. I didn’t mean that she would be _wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm alive as you all can see. Sorry about taking forever to get this updated, please insert whatever excuse you'd like to hear here. Feel free to bother me on tumblr about updating faster if you want. You can find me at thefairyprincev.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the pranks on Lovelace begin.

**Chapter 6 Book I Arc II**

 

            Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair as he left the DADA classroom that Wednesday morning. He gave a huff, noticing that Kitty had joined beside him.

            “So, when do you want to start that research project for Professor Khaba?” She asked, keeping pace with him easily. He huffed again, adjusting the strap of his bag.

            “After classes are done, we can meet in the library and start the preliminary research on our assigned work. We can draw up rough notes for the paper then,” He said, pulling out his pocket watch quickly to check the time as he did. He looked at it only briefly before snapping it back shut.

            “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to Arithmancy,” he said, before turning sharply down an adjacent hallway and leaving her behind. He ran up two flights of stairs before making it in time for his second class of the morning. He made a point then, to ignore Jane Farrar as he coolly sat down next to her. Nathaniel instead pulled out his textbook, a sheaf of parchment, an inkwell and a quill, before Professor Lutyens entered the room herself with a smile.

            “Good morning class! I hope that you all read over the chapters I assigned you on Monday. Homework is to be handed in and on my desk before the end of the class. Please open your books now, as today we’re going to be going over the work of Bridget Wenlock. Now, as you all should know by now, Wenlock was the witch to first discover the magical properties of the number seven back in the thirteenth century...”

            “So, I heard that you’re serving detentions every Saturday with Lovelace until Halloween,” Jane murmured as they flipped to the right pages in their textbooks. Nathaniel shrugged, giving a noncommittal hum in reply. “I also heard you were stuck serving with three others. The always infamous Bartimaeus, Ptolemy Soter, and that Gryffindor chaser, Kitty Jones.”

            “What of it, Farrar?” He asked stiffly, raising an eyebrow as he shot a look at her. She returned an icy razor of a smile.

            “Just curious, Underwood. After all, it’s not every day that _you_ of all people get detention, yes?” That smile of hers was still painted harshly on her face.

             “Mmm, indeed.”

“How did you get it anyways?”

“Bartimaeus decided to be argumentative and lie to Lovelace.”

“Oh my. I’m surprised that he didn’t assign more than eight detentions for that. How did that first one go anyways?”

“Just as you would expect.”

“Mmm. What’s that Gryffindor girl like? I know that her entire house practically _worships_ her talent for quidditch. How big _is_ her ego, in your opinion?”

“Not that big from what I’ve seen. Annoying though. And just as pushy as any lion.”

“Ah.”

“Mm.”

Their conversation turned silent then, both turning back to scratching down notes, as Professor Lutyens lectured animatedly about long dead arithmancers, going into detail of just what each of them had done. Her hands waved around with life as she spoke, as if trying to convey what couldn’t be said with words. Nathaniel sort of liked those things about her.

“And that’s how he found out the properties that the number three had when it came to potions ingredients! Now, if you’ll please turn to page thirty-four, you’ll find a list of names. Please choose one person off that list, and write a foot long research paper on them and their work. This will be due in two weeks’ time,” Professor Lutyens said brightly. “Please come and see me if you have any problems, or need a note to get into the Restricted Section to do your research. Class is now dismissed.”

The bell rang then, signifying that it was now lunch time. Nathaniel sighed and slumped back in his seat momentarily, running a hand through his hair before packing up his things. After he ate it would be off to double Charms for the afternoon. That was bound to be boring, seeing as he’d already had his assigned essay done, and the spell they were going over mastered. He would have to make sure to bring a few books to read. Hopefully Jane would leave him alone there for once.

He left the classroom, taking his time as he made his way down to the Great Hall, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked through the bustling hallways and down the stairs. He had almost reached his destination when all of a sudden he felt his arm being grabbed. In that moment he found himself pulled behind a tapestry and into a hidden alcove behind. He turned with a wand out and a curse on his lips before noticing that the culprit was none other than Bartimaeus, standing there with his hands up and a grin on his face.

“What do you want?” He asked, lowering his wand and letting his shoulders relax.

“I’ve got everything all set up! Just thought I should let you know so that you aren’t surprised in there and give anything away, or something like that.” The Hufflepuff was still grinning. Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Thanks, I guess, for the warning. Don’t talk to me again until Saturday, or we might give ourselves away, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t talk to until Saturday. Whatever. I’m going now, so wait here for a minute before you leave, since you’re so paranoid, Natty-boy,” Bartimaeus said, rolling his eyes. Nathaniel narrowed his own.

“Don’t call me that!” He hissed, before pulling the tapestry aside. “And you can wait here for a minute, because _I_ am leaving first,” he continued, before leaving the seventeen year old there still standing. He swiftly entered the Great Hall, making his way over to the Slytherin table. He nodded towards a few of the more prominent students already seated before taking one of his own. A moment passed, and he soon watched Bartimaeus enter the Great Hall as well, his arm slung over Ptolemy’s shoulders as they walked to the Ravenclaw table and sat down. Another moment passed, and Nathaniel turned to answer a question a third year had asked him. Another moment passed. He had just about forgotten the incident he had before his arrival when suddenly a loud high-pitched scream came from the direction of the head table. He felt himself turn around, same as all the other students, and there he was.

Simon Lovelace, who only a moment before had been wearing his usual more sensible robes, was standing there before all of them in what was quite possibly the puffiest, most ruffled and sequin bedecked princess ball gown the world had ever seen. Bows and ribbons smothered it to the point of drowning, like a ridiculous wedding cake slowly collapsing in on itself. It stood there somehow holding together as a monument to the hubris of mankind. It was pink. It was pinker than pink. It was eye searingly pink. Now that Nathaniel thought of it, he had seen that very same dress on loving display, in a special glass case set up in Khaba’s office. His eyes flitted quickly to Khaba, sitting not too far away; his face was a steely mask of what could only be a terrible storm to come. He turned his gaze away just as quickly, hoping beyond all hopes that he wasn’t noticed. Lovelace’s hair too, had become a horrendous shade of puke green, which happened to clash terribly with the dress. It had grown long and matted in a short span of time, appearing as if it was attempting to curl into ringlets, but taking on the appearance of sad greasy curly fries instead. All around him was the laughter of the other students in the hall, as confetti right then began to rain down out of nowhere from the ceiling. Nathaniel could have sworn he just saw Headmaster Uraziel hide a snicker behind his hand. Lovelace continued to scream at them.

“Who did this! I demand that you show yourself!” He was still trying to remove the offending article of clothing, and Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice Khaba hold back a silent cry of anger as seams under Lovelace’s hands ripped.

Nathaniel kept a hand placed firmly in front of his lower face so nobody could see him grinning, even as Bartimaeus cackled loudly from across the hall. He almost fell out of his seat as he laughed, not even making an attempt to hide his delight.

“Calm down Simon,” Uraziel said, calmly waving a hand to reverse the work that the potions in Lovelace’s drink had done. Another wave, and whatever spells had been engineered on the dress were gone as well.

“Now then, would the perpetrator of this prank care to identify themselves?” Uraziel was standing up from his seat now, all humor from his face gone. He looked over the seated students, who had now all fallen silent. Nathaniel had been quick to school his expression into one that only seemed vaguely interested, if not mostly bored. He turned his eyes back towards the book he had placed in his lap beforehand, in the event that something like this should happen. A quick glance up however showed him that Bartimaeus had not yet stopped laughing, though he was trying to stifle it; His head was down on the Ravenclaw table, shoulders continuing to shake. The Slytherin rolled his eyes. So long as he wasn’t implicated in having a part of this prank, which he shouldn’t be, then he could care less. After all, he had made sure that the potions in Lovelace’s food and drink couldn’t be traced back to him, and the confetti and dress engineering had been (mostly) the Hufflepuff’s job. Nathaniel kept his eyes down on the barely visible book, idly making sure to turn a page when he thought that Uraziel might be looking. He kept his mind carefully blank.

A single hand rose from the Ravenclaw table; Uraziel turned his attention there.

“Yes, Mister...?”

“Tragen, Sir, Shubit Tragen.”

“Do you have something to say then, Mister Tragen?”

“Uhm, yes. I think there’s writing on the confetti?”

Nathaniel frowned upon hearing this. Just what was Bartimaeus playing at? He reached down like many of the others in the room, and squinted as he began to read.

_‘Made by Bartimaeus the Great~ :D’_ was all the little pink pieces of paper said. Nathaniel could feel his eye twitch, as he struggled to keep his composure in check. Sometimes he wondered how Bartimaeus had survived to see his seventh year at Hogwarts.

“Well then, that answers that question I do believe. Bartimaeus, would you care to accompany me to my office?” Uraziel asked, keeping a bland smile on his face as he did. Nathaniel watched Bartimaeus glare at Shubit, his expression promising retribution. Or attempted retribution at least. So long as he left Nathaniel out of it, he didn’t really care.

He left soon after that, returning to his dorm room in order to pick up his Charms textbook and another one that he had checked out of the library a few days back for recreational purposes. An old tome on an obscure branch of magic though it was, he found it interesting nonetheless. The only real drawback was the clouds of dust it always produced when opened, making his eyes water and causing him to sneeze. A quick walk later and he had soon slipped into the classroom of Professor Hopkins, taking his usual seat in the back. He opened his charms book to the spell they would be going over today (that coincidentally, he had mastered around this time last year), before opening his tome to read while he waited for class to begin. He ignored Jane as she sat down in front of him, and kept up his reading while half-listening to Hopkins attempt to teach the others in the class the spell, before performing it perfectly once himself, and going back to his book.  


Double Charms sucked. Thankfully it ended soon enough, and as the bell rang, Nathaniel got ready to head to the library. Now he had to go work on a project with Kitty Jones of all people for DADA.

He tried his resolute best not to make eye contact with Honorius as he walked by, passing a few Ravenclaw second years on his way to an empty table in the corner. It was a testament to how much he loved the library that he braved the skeletal form of Honorius just to visit it on a regular basis. Setting his bag down, he pulled out a sheaf of notes and began to flip through them as he waited for the Gryffindor to show up.

“Shhh! You don’t want us to get caught back here, do you?” Nathaniel’s movements stilled as he heard the guarded hushed voice from the other side of the bookshelf. A grunt responded to it, and then came an exasperated sigh.

“Alright then. Just let me grab what we came for and then we can get out of here. It’s for the best anyways; we don’t want to get caught.” Caught? That peaked Nathaniel’s interest. He slowly slid his chair back, until it was up against the bookshelf and he could hear whoever it was clearer. There were some shuffling noises, a few more grunts, and then a dull thud. He frowned. None of it made much sense put together. He was quick to scoot away from the bookcase and back to the table though, when he saw Kitty enter the library. He bent over the notes he had brought once more, hoping he wasn’t noticed.

He kept bent over as she dropped her bag on the floor and listened to her huff, before she pulled out a seat across from him.

“So, what notes do you already have done for whatever it was that we were assigned?” Kitty asked, as she made herself comfortable. Nathaniel lifted his head, but paused before he answered her question, turning his head slightly instead to watch two seventh years…two seventh years that he _knew_ at that, stumble out from behind the shelves to his back.

_So that was who was talking....Now just what was all that about?’_

“-thaniel! Nathaniel! Hey! Underwood!” He jerked back as the Gryffindor snapped her fingers in his face, before sitting back down, crossing her arms and shooting him a look.

“So. Any idea what we’re going to research for Khaba’s project?” She asked, shooting him a disgruntled look as he straightened in his seat again.

“…I was thinking we could do research on a ritual! It fits all of the criteria assigned to us.”

“Alright, sounds fine to me. If you want to go look through that section of the library then, I’ll see if there’s anything in the text that sounds interesting,” she said, digging out her textbook and flipping it open as he stood up.

A few steps later, and Nathaniel stood on the same side of the shelf that he had seen the two seventh years from Slytherin and Hufflepuff stumble out from. He frowned; just what had Faquarl and Jabor been grabbing out of here? Well, this was the section dedicated to rituals. He saw a book on the shelf, a bit above his eye level that had been pushed to the back, almost as if it had been hastily shoved there to keep it hidden. That could be a lead.

Nathaniel cast a quick glance around before grabbing the book, eyebrows rising as he read the title of it.

_‘Forgottyne Rituales for All Hallows Eve and Other Occasiones’_ was written in a curling, faded script on the cover.

Well then. Whatever the slim volume contained, it didn’t seem good. Or entirely legal. Or well known. Actually, it seemed like the kind of book that should be in the Restricted Section. It was perfect. He walked back to the table where Kitty was now aimlessly doodling, flipping now only half-heartedly through her textbook. He tossed the old, leather (at least he hoped it was leather, with these older books though one just couldn’t be completely sure) bound book on top of their table, making her jump.

“What’s this?” She asked, surprise on her face still as she picked it up and began to flip through it.

“Where the hell did you find something like this, Underwood? It’s perfect,” she continued before he could answer. “Khaba would love everything in this.”

“Exactly. Now, you pick one of the less illegal looking ones, and we can get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look who didn't take months to update again. leave comments and tell me what you thought of the chapter, or come find me on tumblr and yell at me to update faster or something like that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel is allergic to dust and Kitty plays quidditch. That's basically it. I'm not even kidding.

**Chapter 7 Book I Arc II**

               

            Sitting down for breakfast Friday morning, Kitty Jones decided that it was better to tune out Fred and Nick’s usual early bickering. She preferred, instead, to reach over the table to grab a few slices of toast, covering them in jam. As she ate her breakfast slowly, she supressed a yawn, still half asleep.

            “So, you ready for the game tonight, Kitty?” Fred asked, bringing her attention back down to earth. Nick had by then had stood up from the conversation and left the hall, just as a few other members of the Gryffindor quidditch team walked in and sat down with them. Kitty shrugged.

            “As ready as I can be, I guess,” she said. Asmira snorted from across the table, her captain badge shining from where it was pinned to her robes.

            “We’re playing against Slytherin, Fred. You know that Kitty won’t let us lose to Farrar,” she grinned as she moved some food onto a plate of her own. Fred snickered.

            “True; losing the first game of the season to Farrar would be pretty bad; though I doubt Farrar is going to be much happier when she ends up losing to Kitty again.”

            “Yeah,” Asmira replied, as Kitty elbowed Fred sharply. “I’ve heard some of the other Slytherins say that Farrar gets in a right nasty mood when that happens. She locks herself away in her room doing god knows what.”

            “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea – OW!” Fred found himself elbowed once more before he could finish that sentence. Asmira still laughed though, and the beaters, Baztuk and Xerxes, hooted too. She sighed, but couldn’t help a small smile herself.

            “That’s gross, Fred. You’re lucky I have to go get my things before CoMC now, just so you know.” He gave her a jaunty wave along with the rest, as she stood up before leaving the Great Hall herself, still shaking her head. Sometimes she wondered why she was friends with him, but whatever. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, and she had to get to class. Nouda didn’t like it when students were late after all, and she had enough detentions already.

         

* * *

 

 

                As bad as Care of Magical Creatures was sometimes (and honestly with the amount of stuff they had to deal with in that class, anyone squeamish had dropped out after third year), it was nothing compared to how downright boring Defense Against the Dark Arts ended up being this year.

                DADA was usually one of Kitty’s favourite classes, even with some of the bad teachers that they’ve had in the past. Rumor was that there was a curse on the job. With some of the fates that previous teachers had met, Kitty was willing to believe it. Considering how bad the class was going at this pace, she almost hoped that the curse would hurry up and add Khaba to its list of victims already.

                “Good afternoon, Kitty,” Nathaniel said cordially as he sat down next to her. She nodded to him as he turned to dig his things out of his bag. They had agreed to at least try and be polite to each other on Wednesdays for the sake of their grades. And, you know, to avoid more detentions. It was at that moment that Khaba walked into the room, causing the classroom to settle down.

“Hello class,” he said, turning to face them. “I hope that you have all decided on your topics for your research projects by now, as this class will be a work period for your paper. Remember that it’s due on the twenty-fifth of this month; now keep your wands away, and keep _quiet_ ,” he finished on a sharp note, the scowl on his face accentuated particularly today by the shade of his rosy robes. “Now get to work!” He swept away up the stairs to his office pompously, leaving the door ajar to discourage students from disobeying orders.

                “Well then…might as well get started on this paper,” Kitty said as the rest of the class slowly moved into action as well. Nathaniel nodded, gingerly pulling the book of rituals needed out of his bag, along with a sheaf of notes.

                “I went through all of the rituals we picked out on Wednesday and got out a few more books on them. After taking down some notes, I believe that we can now narrow it down to a choice of two for the project. The fae summoning one, and the ambient magic gathering one. Personally, I’m more interested in the gathering one. What about you?” Nathaniel said, quickly shuffling his parchment around, showing her the notes he took. He left her the small stacks scrawled in his near illegible handwriting, looking expectantly.

                “…I think I have to agree with you there. The gathering one sounds more interesting. And I’m not saying that just because I’d rather not give someone like Khaba the knowledge of how to summon a morally ambiguous, fairly bloodthirsty fae.” She managed to say this with a straight face, getting a snort out of Nathaniel.

                “Agreed. Instead we’re just going to give him knowledge on how to gather all the ambient magic in a select area to use for himself as he pleases.”

                “Well, at least that one requires a specific set of conditions it can only be done by.”

                “True, very true.”

                “And who knows just how often they all align at the same time?”

                “Can’t argue with that.” Nathaniel slid the notes on fae summoning back into his bag, spreading out the ones on the gathering ritual again.

                “Alright. So the basics of this ritual…it can only be performed on Halloween, during a waning moon, at exactly eight PM. In needs to be in an area with high levels of ambient magic to work in a concentrated space, as it essentially gathers any loose or young magic into a single vessel; usually, a person. It says not to attempt this around those of ‘learning age’ as their magic is still fairly untamed. The ripping of magic from them can cause horrific, painful deaths when close by. Lovely,” Nathaniel said, after finishing his summary. Kitty nodded.

                “Sounds good. What other books did you find, anyway?” she asked. Nathaniel reached over into his bag again, pulling out a large, dusty tome. He sneezed twice before gingerly setting it down onto the table. Kitty raised her eyebrows, looking at him.

                “Allergies,” he replied curtly, cheeks flaring. He leaned back over quickly again, this time retrieving a slimmer volume, albeit one that had its cover half chewed off. Quite a few of its pages were singed badly at the edges.

                “That looks…promising.” Kitty reached for the large tome instead, with its cramped, tiny script. “This is going to be so much _fun_.”

 

* * *

 

                Kitty had decided long ago that Friday night quidditch games had to be the worst ones. She sighed to herself, strapping her arm guards on. She had to make sure they weren’t too tight, but also that they wouldn’t fall off while she was playing. The conversation in the locker room was down to a low hum as everyone was prepping for the first game of the year. Everyone was psyched; the energy had been this way since she accidentally joined the team during her second year. Fred had dared her to try out as a joke; he stopped laughing very quickly though when it became apparent to everyone that she had a natural talent for flying. She figured it would continue to be this way until she graduated. Kitty had decided that she quite liked playing quidditch; beating Farrar was just the icing on the cake.

                She didn’t know how she and the Slytherin girl got off on the wrong foot, but they didn’t like each other. They had enough in common to get along, but for some reason things didn’t work out that way. At…all, really. It had gotten to the point where rumors had spread about their so called “rivalry” which had now gotten to the point of infamy throughout the school. This was probably why almost every student made it a point to show up to the matches they had versus Slytherin. Kitty thought it was stupid, if only because their games weren’t any different from say, one between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. If you discount the cheating, that is. And the higher likelihood of injuries on the field. And the greater content of foul language. But other than that, it was just like any other quidditch game.

                “Alright team, remember the strategies we’ve been working on!” Asmira was now standing up, and everyone turned around. “Please try to keep the injuries to a minimum. I don’t want to visit any of you in the hospital wing this early in the year; that means you too Lucy. You don’t need another bludger to the head,” she said as she grabbed her broom, the others laughing. The rest of the team followed suit behind her in order as they assembled on the field, facing the Slytherin team. Kitty kept her face blank as Jane Farrar stared her down, the two of them standing across of each other as Harknett, the flying teacher and usual referee ran through the rules that were most often broken. He gave both captains Asmira and Jane a stern look as she spoke. Then, the bludgers were released. All eyes were glued to Harknett as she let the snitch go, the small golden ball quickly darting off from their hands.

                “Begin!” The quaffle was thrown, and off they went.

                The wind rushed by as Kitty took off, hands gripping her broom tightly as everyone sped through the air. Following Asmira and Nick as they flew after the quaffle, she intercepted it from Chosroes as she was attempting to pass it off to Jane. Nick grabbed it, falling back a little before tossing it off to Asmira. Up Kitty flew, ducking beneath a bludger shot at her by Menes, one of the Slytherin beaters, until she was ahead of the other chasers. The quaffle was tossed to her from Asmira again, right before Malbindi could wrench it out of her grasp. Grabbing it quickly, she flew up once again, tucking it securely under her arm as she took it towards the goalposts, guarded by the Slytherin keeper, Zeno. All of a sudden, Jane was there in her face.

                “Hello Jones; lovely weather we’re having. Hand over the quaffle,” she said, shoving against Kitty to try and divert her from her course. The Gryffindor snorted, shoving Jane back.

                “Not a chance, Farrar. You’re not winning this game,” she replied, before dropping the quaffle into Asmira’s arms as she flew underneath them just then from below. Before Jane could react, Asmira had already shot off straight towards the goal posts, faking a left, before easily tossing it through the middle hoop, bypassing Zeno. The crowds cheered while the announcer roared the score, with Gryffindor leading Slytherin ten to zero. Jane gave her a scowl, eyes flashing in promised retribution. Kitty did not even try to hold back the small smirk on her face, as she flew back into position.

                The game’s pace only got faster from there. The beaters were particularly ferocious today, with Menes aiming a particularly hard one at Lucy. Thankfully Xerxes had been there, unlike last time. But now, Jane had the quaffle, and she was fast approaching the Gryffindor goal posts, with Kitty hot on her tail.

                “You can’t – stop me – Jones –” Jane panted, her broom barely ahead of Kitty’s.

                “Watch – me – Farr–”

                It was at that moment when the bludger hit her.

                Kitty cried out in pain from the hit that took her square on the center of her back, sending her broom spinning. She glimpsed the other Slytherin beater, one of the Soter boys, grinning nastily at her right before she hit Jane. Oh _crap_. She swore.

                Both girls went spiraling down, neither able to stop the fall as the crowd was torn between watching them and the Gryffindor seeker who at that moment had managed to catch the snitch. Jane was cursing too, and Kitty was trying everything in her power that she could to avoid hitting the fast approaching ground, but there was no way by this point to stop their plummeting descent.

                The ground hurt. Alot. Even though she had landed partly on Jane, Kitty still heard (and felt), _something_ crack when she hit the ground, gasping in pain. Oh, Soter was going to get it. Once everything stopped spinning. And hurting. As her ears rang, she could see the other players starting to land and crowd around them, but her vision was now going fuzzy. Someone was shouting her name, but she wasn’t sure who it was. Was that the gamekeeper over there, walking towards the forest? He watched the Quidditch games, but not today. There were two students with him; it was strange what you noticed in moments like this. Kitty Jones passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I am still alive please don't kill me for the way this chapter ended and the fact that I have no idea when chapter eight will be going up because that really depends on when Jojo finishes editing it and I finish writing chapter ten. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, I apologize for the long wait for it, and please leave comments because they give me the motivation to actually keep writing this story and not just give up on it like I kind of want to these days so yeah.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plots are discussed and plans are made.

**Chapter 8 Book I Arc II**

Ptolemy had lost track of when September had given way to October. Their first month back at school had passed so quickly, thinking on it now. It was a blur of Sunday detentions, studying in the library, and hanging out with Bartimaeus. He reminisced like this for a while, distracted as he was from the book on his lap. A smile flitted to his face though. At least unlike Bartimaeus, when it came to those detentions he hadn’t picked up even more of them.

The Hufflepuff just was not good at hiding his even partial responsibility in any of the constant pranks this year played on Professor Lovelace. He had gotten docked a good amount of points for the “pink dress green hair” incident alone; and things had only gotten worse from there. It had taken only a day after all, for the true effects of Underwood’s green hair concoction to make themselves apparent. Nobody saw Lovelace that day, but it was rumored that he had suffered from having his hair fall out rapidly in small clumps. Those rumors were only confirmed when Bartimaeus was grimly called to Uraziel’s office yet again. He was called a second time when Lovelace was stuck speaking in rhyme for twenty four hours, and a third when half of his office was ransacked…though Ptolemy was pretty sure that Nathaniel alone was solely responsible for that one. Of course, somehow all the evidence managed to point themselves towards Bartimaeus anyway. Hm. He’d have to have a “talk” with that Slytherin Prefect later. Regardless, Bartimaeus’s other antics hadn’t exactly helped his case at the time; not when other incidents such as the one involving the duck transfiguration were counted against him, least of all the unfortunate aftermath of that particular one. A disgruntled Lovelace had to suffer through the rest of the day with his hair shedding duck feathers in light floating clumps behind him.

The worst by far though was the entire week Lovelace had to spend in the form of Khaba; a prank that Khaba himself was still seething over. It had nearly earned Bartimaeus a whole extra month of compounded detention from the both of them, but there had been no evidence found at the time that they could charge him with. He was luckily left off the hook and spared the consequences, for once. Ptolemy still wasn’t sure how exactly he had managed that one. Then again, Bartimaeus had always had a particular affinity for transfiguration. He had a sneaking suspicion though that Uraziel must have found that last prank funnier then he let on; whenever he thought no one was looking, he smirked over at Khaba. Something must have soured Uraziel to him, he thought.

Other than these events though, things seemed to go on at the school same as usual…well, up until the unfortunate quidditch incident. Ptolemy grimaced upon remembrance. Poor Kitty and Jane had been in the hospital wing for a week; Kitty still had a nasty set of splotchy bruises from the bludger, though they were half faded by now. His stupid cousin. Ptolemy sighed. The older boy may be a seventh year, but it would take nothing short of a miracle for him to pass his NEWTS. It didn’t seem to particularly matter to him though, since all his cousin seemed to care about was booze. That and trying to sleep with every other girl he could – not to say that any of them did though. Not to say that any of them particularly wanted to either. Ptolemy snorted to himself, setting a hand over the ancient amulet he always wore in thought; it flared with warmth briefly, before returning back to normal.

That was when Bartimaeus came skidding into his dorm room, tripping over his feet and falling flat on his face.

“What’s got you in such a rush today, Rekhyt?” Ptolemy asked, trying not to laugh as the Hufflepuff groaned from where he lay sprawled out on the floor.

Let me…huff…catch – my…ha…breath…” he gasped out dramatically. Ptolemy held back a snicker, but closed the book he had been neglecting anyway. He hadn’t been able to pay attention after all, fascinated though he was with the subject matter. Placing it on his bedside table, he watched as Bartimaeus pulled himself up from the floor to lie on top of the bed with him instead. Ptolemy pulled his head over to his lap, hearing only the faintest of protests.

“So, what happened?” he asked again, idly carding fingers through the other’s hair.

“Well. There I was! In that one clearing by the Black Lake,” Bartimaeus began, eager to get his story out. “You know the one, right? It’s surrounded by the large rocks?”

“Yes I –”

“– There I was! I was uh, having a nap. When all of a sudden, I heard people nearby making enough noise to wake up the dead! I was already in my animagus form though, so I was able to slip away quickly and easily enough beneath some bushes. So there I was! Hiding, you know. As these guys…well I couldn’t really see who they were from where I was, but I’m just going to assume – anyway, they were invading my clearing! Of course I was pissed, but when they started talking? Ooooh, you’ll never guess what I heard.”

“What did you hear then?”

“Wait, hold up!” Bartimaeus scrambled up from his perch and bolted over to the closet, pulling out a blackboard. Ptolemy’s face blanched.

“What are you –”

“I got this,” Bartimaeus said, pointing his wand at it dramatically. “Okay, look at this now…”

 

* * *

 

“ _Why are we doing this again?” grumbled a deep voice; sounds could be heard of grunting and shifting around._

“ _You know better than I what happens if we don’t. He tells everyone and you’re fucked,” snapped a second voice. Bartimaeus frowned. Both voices sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them._

“ _I still don’t like it.”_

“ _Let me worry about it then. We already got what we needed copied from the book before sniveling Nathaniel swiped it. What a pompous shit.”_

“ _Heh…”_

“ _Like I said though. All we need to do now is keep an ear out and make sure nobody’s caught on or suspects anything. And you know, help Verroq when he needs it. Then you’re safe from being outed, and I’m safe from_ that _.” More shuffling sounds, a loud grunt, and then a tired sigh._

“… _Thanks.”_

“ _Just stop worrying about it Jabor. Everything’s going to be fine.” Bartimaeus’s eyes widened as he finally identified the voices. He escaped from the tangle of bushes in a shot, running as fast as his four-legged form could take him back up into the castle. He only stopped to change out of his animagus form once he was in the empty Ravenclaw common room, bolting up the stairs to Ptolemy’s dorm._

 

* * *

 

Ptolemy stared in aghast as Bartimaeus finished recanting his story, furiously drawing diagrams still on the blackboard.

“So now I have proof that Faquarl and Jabor are evil! And up to something, at that! I bet Shubit is in on it too,” he added furiously, drawing a tiny sketch of Shubit’s face above his little Faquarl and Jabor, circling it with relish. It was actually a very good likeness.

“Well. That is something. Do you think we should tell anyone?” Ptolemy asked, looking back at the seventh year who’d by now quieted down, stepping back from his work to appraise it eagerly. Ptolemy didn’t have the heart to tell him that it looked like gibberish mixed in with admittedly acceptable artistic talent.

“Makes sense to. Nathaniel should definitely be one of them, and I wouldn’t mind Kitty. During detention on Saturday, then?”

“Good plan. For now though, you should put that away; there’s not much longer until dinner, and I don’t want anyone seeing that and catching on too.”

“Yeah, I’m on it! How long do we have your dorm to ourselves?” The look Bartimaeus was giving him, Ptolemy couldn’t help but laugh.

***

Ptolemy would forever be glad that he had a fairly light schedule on Fridays, as it just made things that much easier for him. Sure, he wasn’t too fond of Double Herbology first thing in the morning, but at least it meant that he could go shower during lunch and get the dirt off. Somehow, it always managed to end up _everywhere_. Of course Ramuthra glaring down at him (and everyone else too) didn’t exactly help make him any fonder of the subject. That he had Care of Magical Creatures after lunch with Bartimaeus, and Ancient Runes later made up for everything though. That is, unless a situation like today happened. As it turned out, all the sixth and seventh years regardless of their house affiliation were shoved into one class for reasons unknown to him. Ptolemy silently wondered to himself who had thought that this would be a good idea, as he turned over to give Bartimaeus a hushed glare.

“No Rekhyt, I don’t think throwing ink at Faquarl is a good idea; Nouda will kill you for messing with his favourite student.”

“But Ptol! Look at him! He –”

“I don’t care how much he may or may not resemble the Giant Squid. _Nouda_. Keep your ink in your bag, and save it for later.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, though he still shot Faquarl a withering look. “Look at him being all smug over there with what’s-his-face and fucking Shubit. _Shubit_. I told you Shubit was probably in on it! Hell, the little twit is probably the mastermind behind it all,” he whispered quietly, before wincing as Queezle reached over and flicked his forehead.

“You know you guys look suspicious when you whisper like that, right? I don’t want another incident with Nouda again,” she hissed, before returning to tend to her own Jobberknoll chick. Bartimaeus quickly covered his right hand protectively, shuddering as he remembered the incident where he lost his finger in third year. Thankfully Karloum, one of the school’s Healers, had reattached it easily. Ptolemy patted his arm absently, before returning to his own work.

There was half an hour left. _Half an hour_ left of this class. And then another hour and half to get through of Ancient Runes. Compounded with other things, that meant he had three hours and ten minutes left to get through until dinner, at which point it would be back to the dorms to finish his homework and sleep. Not even the promise of the next day was anything to look forward to, as it was the Saturday of their sixth detention. He sighed…he was really starting to get sick of them by this point, but at least there were only two more left to go through after. That…and the next one would be considerably more interesting, what with Bartimaeus’ usual theories actually making sense and fitting together for once. Still, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was all going to lead them somewhere no good. And that ominous feeling was bothering him.

* * *

“You’re kidding, right?” Was all that Kitty said as she stood beside Nathaniel, a look of pure disbelief on her face. Bartimaeus had somehow managed to procure a blackboard once again, and had redone his entire performance for Ptolemy a second time through. He only shook his head vehemently in reply.

“Of course not! I don’t joke about this kind of stuff; Faquarl and Jabor are up to something, and Shubit’s is the most likely candidate for the status of mastermind! I swear, he’s been out to get me ever since third year when Faquarl broke up with him because he obviously wasn’t over _me_ dumping him –”

“He dumped you Rekhyt. You sulked for three days.”

“– _wasn’t over me dumping him_ and so Shubit’s out to get me and is obviously blackmailing! Or maybe he’s brainwashed them like in that one muggle movie you showed me last summer, remember? But anyway, that! Into doing his dirty work! And it’s all building up to Halloween!”

“I can’t believe you said all that in one breath,” Kitty deadpanned. Nathaniel snorted, and Ptolemy couldn’t help but hide his own smile behind his hand.

“Oh come on! Okay then tell me, what about that book they mentioned huh? What about that _Nathaniel_ ,” he said, giving the Slytherin a pointed glare. The grin immediately died on Nathaniel’s face, and for the first time Kitty actually began to look wary.

“He has a point,” she said, remembering the books they picked out for their project from the library. Nathaniel nodded slowly.

“What were they doing there you think anyway? And how does the Gamekeeper tie in to this,” he muttered.

“Forget about that, it’s not important. What _is_ important is that fucking Shubit’s up to something, and it’s up to us to figure out what that thing is,” Bartimaeus insisted. Nathaniel rolled his eyes, as Kitty sighed.

“Alright, we’ll keep our eyes open and see if we can find anything more concrete. Okay?” She said, picking up a broom again. “Now can we get back to doing what we’re supposed to be here for in the first place? I would actually like to _leave_ sometime soon.”

And so, they got back to work in Lovelace’s classroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, it's been a while. Again. Sorry about that. School sucks. But 'eeeey, you're getting two chapters out of me tonight!!! One more chapter left of Book One!!! And then the Yule Interlude (which I still have to finish writing... It's getting kinda long...), and then comes Book Two!!! I'm still iffy about whether or not I'll actually go into Book Three, but there's still time for me to work out the kinks of that, so w/e. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and please leave kudos, comments, reviews, whatever. I thrive on them and they encourage me to actually work on this fic instead of procrastinating!!!! And as always, all credit for this story actually being readable goes to the lovely Jojo.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ptolemy's family is fucking weird. Also shit happens.

I loved my animagus form. Sure at first I hadn’t been too keen on it,1 but after two years now nobody ever questioned said hairless cat wandering around the school. Plus, it made getting into the Ravenclaw dorms that much easier; the Slytherin ones too during that little “prank war” I had at one point with Faquarl. Granted none of that held even a single candle to Queezle’s metamorphmagi abilities, but whatever. My point still stands. Having such a normal looking animagus form made my life just that much easier…especially when trying to follow a certain someone walking down the third floor corridor.

It was a late October afternoon that Wednesday, and outside it was already getting cold. Most of the leaves had already fallen from the trees, but here in the castle it was still nice and warm. It had been a week and five days since that last detention conversation, and so far neither Ptol, Nat, or even Kitty had managed to hear of anything else. Honestly, it kind of sucked.

So here I was during dinner, following my only lead – that would be Shubit – to see if he’d let the slip. Of course the others no longer _agreed_ with me that it was Shubit behind the plot, but I mean. Come on. Just _look_ at him. Yet still they remained unconvinced, and had by now drifted on apart doing whatever it was they did. Ptol no longer cared, 2 Natty-boy suspected Khaba for reasons nobody was quite sure why,3 and Kitty was all but convinced that the plot all came down to a ministry level conspiracy.4 Long story short I was left on my own to ~~stalk~~ _follow_ the obviously guilty party and…wait. Wait a second. Where’d he go?

_Dammit,_ I thought, growling as I padded into another hallway, trying to figure out where he had gone. Suddenly I froze, hearing the sound of footsteps fast approaching. Quickly I shot behind a suit of armor and hid.

“As I said before, I don’t  _have_ the book I got the information from. All you wanted was the information in the first place, anyway. The book itself wasn’t exactly necessary.”

I held my breath; animagus form or not, I couldn’t get found out. Not now, not yet.

“My dear boy, books from the Restricted Section don’t just  _go missing_ . Someone has it, and something tells me you know of _whom_ .” A nasally voice vaguely threatened, dripping with a very familiar sense of disdain.

“Not as if they would know what you’re planning,” the other person replied, voice stiff sounding.

“Well…if you’re saying what I believe you’re saying. Well. You’re not going to  _let_ them muck things up, now  _are_ you, Nevrakis?” The voice answered back with a hint of a growl. “There will be consequences…consequences that go beyond you. Hm. That abominable boy is still in class. Speaking of which, when  _is_ the next full moon anyhow?”

“Look, if a bunch of fifth years are poking their noses in the library, that’s not my problem –!”

“Ah. There we go.” A chuckle followed those words at the other’s outburst. If I had been able to I would have made a face in disgust at the sound.

“We should discuss how we’re going to get  _rid_ of our problem then,” the horrid voice said in a terse tone.

As the footsteps faded away down the hall, I knew it was high time I got out of there, before anyone else came by. I bolted from my hiding spot, determined to go find the others. This was something they had to know; this involved them, and it was looking to be some deep shit that was about to go down.

The book…what was in that book they were talking about anyway? Down the corridor I raced, fully intent on getting to them as fast as I could. Since dinner had ended only just a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure where to find them however. But luck seemed to be on my side tonight when I spotted them all leaving the Great Hall in a group.

Yowling loudly 5 I flung myself at Nathaniel’s leg, gleefully clawing at his pants 6 and tearing out a few threads as he cursed, stumbling as he tried to pull me off.

“You stupid cat –!”

“Rekhyt!” Ptolemy was quick to pull me off Nat, giving me a disapproving look as I cuddled up against him, looking as innocent as a hairless cat could ever get.

“I think something’s happened. We should go somewhere else,” the Ravenclaw said softly. The other two looked at each other before nodding and walking along casually with him to an empty classroom on the third floor. Ptolemy set me down on the ground once the door was shut, 7 and I was quick then to shift back into my human form, working a few kinks out of my back.

“So, why exactly did you come running down that hall like a three-headed dog was chasing you?” Kitty asked, raising her eyebrows as she sat on top of a desk. I shrugged.

“Oh, no reason! No reason at all, other than the fact that whoever it is that’s planning whatever is now onto us!” I grinned brightly as the other three reacted to the bad news.

Kitty stayed calm mostly, aside from a twitching eyebrow and a resigned sigh.

Nathaniel went white 8 before muttering something under his breath. 9

“Who was it? What did they say?” Ptolemy asked, chewing his lower lip as he kept a hand on my arm. I nodded, ready to recant my tale.

“Faquarl was there, with an adult too. They were having a conversation, but the professor’s voice was unusually nasally and low…I think they were a professor, but. I couldn’t quite place the voice. Anyone know of a professor with a nasal tone?” Bartimaeus looked at them all expectantly, but received nothing but frowns.

“…No that doesn’t sound familiar,” Ptolemy said hesitantly.

“Ah…well. Maybe they changed their voice or something? Or…no, nevermind. Well I guess we don’t know who the mastermind is, but he wasn’t very happy that Faquarl and Jabor weren’t able to bring him some book from the restricted section.”

“Faquarl and Jabor…well, I guess we can finally cut Shubit for good like you thought.”

I made a face, sticking my tongue out at Kitty as she pointed that out.

“Er…” Nathaniel started hesitantly. Everyone looked over to him. “I uhm. I still have the book. Its…in my bag? Actually?”

“Nathaniel!” I said in a faux gasp. Keeping a book over its due date! Whatever shall we do!

“I renewed it!” he snapped, before regaining control of himself. “Well – look, let me get it out of my bag.” He began rustling through it, before pulling out the slim volume,  _‘Forgottyne Rituales for All Hallows Eve’_ still written on it in that all too familiar now faded script. He had been poring over it since their last detention for days, trying to suss its importance out.

“We need to take that to the Headmaster. And soon,” Kitty Jones said firmly, giving Nathaniel a hard look. I nodded.

“Considering they said something about getting rid of us, then yeah. I just uh, can’t be the one to tell the Headmaster,” I said, shifting my feet a little as Kitty’s eyebrows rose.

“Why?”

“Oh.... Because of... reasons... you know...” I muttered as Ptolemy snickered behind his hand10 while I (didn’t) pout.

“.... Alright then. One of us at least will go to the Headmaster sometime before Halloween. Honestly though, a book about rituals on _Halloween?_ Talk about obvious. No wonder they didn’t want anyone else grabbing it,” Kitty said with a nod. “We have a week until the thirty-first so we should be good.”

The rest of us agreed to meet up within the next few days in order to work out who exactly among us was going to go see Uraziel about this issue. Until then, we went our separate ways to our own dorm rooms for the night.

***

It was the Saturday five days before Halloween when things started to go wrong. There we were innocently walking out of our final detention with Lovelace, when who should show up but Ptolemy’s cousin; not one of the nicer ones. I’m talking the _asshole_ one. 11

“Well hello there _cousin_.” There he stood, gracing us with all that his assholish presence could provide. There he stood, a one seventh year Ptolemy Soter, Beater on the Slytherin team who recently landed both Kitty Jones AND Jane Farrar into the Hospital Wing during the same damn game. A brutish lout, as the fates have foretold! There he spat, as he rounded the corner with several lackeys, glaring down at his by far more intelligent, attractive, and talented younger cousin. Obviously he was jealous in the face of true superiority. Gaze upon him trembling mortals, and repent!

Alright but in all seriousness this wasn’t going to end well. Confrontations with Ptolemy’s cousin never usually did. 12

“Cousin,” Ptolemy answered, giving him a curt nod and grabbing my arm13 as he attempted to pull past the dully snickering groupies.

“And where are you going, _cousin_?” The seventh year said with a nod to one of his followers, who dutifully reached out to try and grab Ptolemy’s arm roughly… _tried_ being the key word here, of course. I got in their way grinning cheerfully, hand already reaching for my wand. Ptolemy sighed and shot his cousin a disapproving glare, eyes narrowed and back straightened. Their gazes met squarely, his daring the other to stop us from leaving.

“I happen to be going to the library to begin work on a project for Ancient Runes, so I’m afraid that as _lovely_ as it has been to talk to you, cousin, I have to be going now.” He said this in a dangerously sweetened voice before spinning around with my arm in his grip once again, dragging me off to the library against his cousin’s sputtering protests. I simply shot them all a cheeky grin and waved before Ptolemy pulled me around the corner.

Unfortunately, Ptolemy’s cousin being the magnificent asshole that he is 14 was only the unfortunate beginning to a bad few days. Why, you might ask? Well how about the fact that the first thing anyone hears at dinner on Monday night is how some stupid fifth year Gryffindor managed to blow up most of the Potions classroom, landing both him and several other students in the Hospital Wing till Tuesday night? And how about the fact that said Gryffindor who caused said explosion was none other than Kitty’s partner Fred Weaver, meaning Kitty was one of those students now stuck there? I mean I had beaten her thanks to having Care of Magical Creatures first thing Monday morning, but how was I supposed to know that Flesh-Eating Slug spit was corrosive?  _Honestly._

That left Ptolemy and Nathaniel with the job of going to Uraziel with the information that we had…of course Uraziel wasn’t in. And of  _course_ , Uraziel wouldn’t be back until Tuesday night.

“What are we going to do? We have until Wednesday, and time is running out! We can’t just _wait_ ,” Kitty muttered, chewing offhandedly on a nail as she leaned back against the wall of her bed. I shrugged and Ptolemy sighed.

“Well you two are going to be here for most if not all of tomorrow still. What with you recovering from that explosion, and you with that chunk of your arm growing back. There’s not much that either of you can do.”

“On Tuesdays nights I have an extra credit project I’m working on with Farrar for Whitwell…she’ll ask questions if I say I want to cancel.” Nat sighed, running a hand through his hair.15 Ptolemy opened his mouth as if to say something but Ianna, the Healer in charge of the wing walked over before he could get his chance to speak.

“I’m sorry, but you two are going to have to leave now. It’s almost ten and I don’t want any students out after curfew,” she said, before handing me and Kitty our vialled potions. Mine was a vivid green, while hers was completely clear. “You two on the other hand must drink these up and go straight to bed. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

Ptolemy and Nat left, and Kitty and I didn’t argue with Ianna before going to bed ourselves. 16

* * *

 

**Nathaniel’s POV**

Nathaniel was on edge walking to lunch that Wednesday, the dreaded thirty-first of October. None of them had been able to get in to see Uraziel and they were just about out of time now. Adjusting the strap of his bag as he left the fifth floor Arithmancy classroom, he let out a yelp in surprise and jumped, drawing out his want and spinning around only to find Kitty Jones snickering from the other end. She leaned back against a wall, looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, grinning at him as his cheeks flushed. He stuffed his wand quickly back into its holster in his sleeve.

“You didn’t _scare_ me, you simply startled me,” he sniffed. He turned right back around then to stalk towards the nearest staircase downstairs for lunch.

“Whatever,” Kitty replied, rolling her eyes as she got up and followed. “We have to go to Uraziel during lunch. You know that, right? It’s our last chance we’ve got.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Of course I know that. Are we going to collect Bartimaeus and Ptolemy before we go to the Headmaster?”

“I don’t believe that you or Ms. Jones are going to be going _anywhere_ Mr. Underwood,” a nasally voice came from behind them. Nathaniel only had time enough to spin, eyes widening as he caught sight of their attacker. The stunning spell hit him though before he had time to react, hitting him directly in the chest. Everything went black.

* * *

 

1After all, what fifteen year old guy wouldn’t find a hairless cat kind of lame?

2He had some kind of big Transfiguration project going on that was taking up most of his time.

3Possibly the atrocious wardrobe, not that Nat of all people should be complaining.

4I don’t know, I didn’t really listen to her rant.

5 There were too many other people around for me to change back there. I didn’t quite want to get into trouble today for being an unregistered animagus. Besides, the fines for that are  _huge_ okay?

6 that’s what he gets for somehow managing to blame every single one of our pranks on only me!

7It wasn’t locked though…in hindsight, forgetting to lock that stupid door is what caused most of our problems after this point.

8Er? (Whiter?) He was already really pasty looking, but now he kind of looked a bit like a piece of paper. Maybe if I set him adrift on the lake in the summer he’d get a tan…

9In what was probably one of those dead languages that no one in this school but him knows? Actually no, that Farrar girl probably knows whatever it is too. And that crazy history obsessed Deputy Headmaster. He has a collection of biting jars from somewhere out in the Middle East that are apparently four thousand years old. All I know is that getting bit by one left me delirious and I almost had to go to the actual hospital after I stuck my hand in it.

10 So I might have gone to the Headmaster a few times because I was absolutely certain that a few people (Shubit, Faquarl, Simpkin, Faquarl, Whoever was the DADA professor that year, Ramuthra, Shubit, Whitwell, Faquarl, etc.) were plotting stuff like world domination over the years and he had stopped believing me after the first four times I’d gone to his office.

11Quick story: Ptolemy has a lot of cousins. And I mean _a lot_ of cousins. This is just going into the father’s side of his family; the Soters are kind of huge population-wise. From what I know they were originally from Greece or Macedonia or somewhere, but these days a whole bunch of them now live in London. The main branch of the family though is still based in Egypt, not that I know much other than that. My particular Ptolemy’s mom is native to there actually; she sort of married in, some woman from upriver, but dropped out of the picture later at some point…he doesn’t really talk about it. Probably the reason his looks are so stunning is that he gets them from her. But _anyways_ he has tons of cousins most of whom are also named Ptolemy...yeah, I don’t get it either. The girls are the notable exceptions, though their names are also a whole bunch of reused repeats: lots of Cleopatras, Arsinoes, and Berenices. A fair enough amount of them also attend Hogwarts these days. I think there’s something like, twelve Ptolemies, seven Cleopatras, five Berenices, and about three Arsinoes right this minute, all in varying year levels and Houses. My Ptolemy of course, is a cut above the crowd.

12He spends so much time drinking anyway I’m surprised he possesses the few brain cells he has. Nonetheless, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him back down or take no for an answer.

13It wasn’t like I was standing there trying to figure out the best way to hex his cousin without anyone figuring me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about.

14We’ve gone over this before, surely?

15Greasy and getting too long hair, that is. Seriously, he’s going to lean over a cauldron one day and we’re all going to watch his hair light up like a firework.

16Nice as she usually is, you don’t disobey a Healer’s orders; this goes no matter how disgusting or sludge-like the potion they want you to drink. I mean Ianna alone, I wouldn’t disobey her. She can be scary, and I’ve been in the Hospital Wing enough times to know that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you guys go!!! Two chapters in one night!!! Please don't kill me. Leave reviews instead. Because the sooner I finish writing the next bit the sooner you get the next chapter and reviews are very encouraging for that uvu

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Why Is It Always The Weird Ones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173010) by [thefairyprincev (QueenOfThePolarBears)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfThePolarBears/pseuds/thefairyprincev)
  * [On Librarians Secret Weaknesses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976961) by [thefairyprincev (QueenOfThePolarBears)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfThePolarBears/pseuds/thefairyprincev)




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